The Warrior Queen
by TheMagpieQueen
Summary: Boudicca Baratheon knew more than most how the game was played, after all being the daughter of a stag and a lion was just as dangerous as playing the game itself but despite the cautions from her mother, her father made a warrior out of her. Amidst a war amongst Kings, a Warrior Queen forged from iron and ice will rise and will bring a storm to those who betrayed her.
1. Prologue

284 AC  
 _King's Landing_

Cersei Lannister

All she could feel was an agonising pain, her entire body was shaking violently and all Cersei Lannister wanted was for her child to enter the world and for the never ending storm to end. The thunder roared in her ears as the winds picked up and shook the Red Keep, she let her eyes flutter close as lightning clashed with the thunderous sky and it lit up her chambers briefly before the room was once again encased in darkness once more. The candle light that once lit her chambers had ceased, despite her handmaidens frantically relighting the candles. The storm ran across the skies of King's Landing and it felt as if the Warrior himself was attacking them. The rain that was unleashed from the heavens battered heavily against the buildings and ground as the storm lay waste to King's Landing, uncaring for the people below. It was as if the storm was massacring the world but even then her screams could still be heard above all the noise as she pushed once, her knees knocking together.

Cersei's pained screams filled her chambers and the entire Keep, she gripped onto her twin's hand tightly, wishing for the murderous pain to cease. She had laboured for six hours, shortly going into labour when the storm began to ravage King's Landing and she took this as a sign of pride. _My son will be a warrior,_ Cersei thought with smugness as she looked over to Jaime with a pleased smirk. _A king. A warrior._ Just like his father. She felt one of her many handmaidens press a cool cloth onto her wet forehead and stroked her sweat covered face with the cool cloth, causing her to lean her scorching skin into the coolness of the rag.

Her muscles tightened and with a final excruciating push, she could finally feel the child shift and emerge from the safety of her womb. Her handmaidens and Grand Maester Pycelle were crowded around her but she found herself uncaring for them as they gasped and jostled each other like a flock of frightened hens that tried to think of the birth of her first born son as a joyous occasion. Cersei knew that they were merely frightened of the storm that roared and if she had enough breath in her body, she would have dragged her eyes and scoffed loudly at the pathetic women.

 _I am not frightened nor will I ever be,_ Cersei thinks stubbornly to herself as she grits her teeth and pushes. _But you are, are you not?_ She also thinks to herself and stills her shoving and pushing upon thinking back to her blonde haired, green eyed mother. All smiles were lost that at Casterly Rock when her mother died and she was not one for dying. Cersei would not die. _Your mother died during childbirth to that little Imp. What if that babe tears you apart from the inside?_

"You are doing so well," Jaime encouraged and she eyed him with narrowed green eyes that mirrored her own as he squeezed her hand in reassurance. All her fears of death faded away then when she looked in her brother's fierce eyes that reminded her of her own, of their mothers. " _Push_ , Cersei. Just one more push. It will all be over soon enough, I promise. I can see the babe."

Cersei instinctively followed his command and screamed out her agony, her back rose high from the bed and with the little strength she had left, finally pushed the babe from her body. She let out soft pants of relief, collapsing back onto the bed with a soft bounce and closed her eyes, letting her limbs relax and weaken from the effort. Another roar of thunder sounded throughout the chambers before the storm went quiet. Her brows furrowed softly and her eyes opened weakly when the sounds of the storm turned into the cries of a babe. _Her babe._

She knew then that her child would be fiercer, fiercer than all of the rest and would climb higher than them too. Her babe would be better than the bastards that Robert, no doubt has crawling about King's Landing covered in shit and piss. _My babe._ Cersei shakily propped herself up with all her strength, despite Jaime's protests and she eyed Grand Maester Pycelle as he held her squirming babe. She eyed the old man with anger, her green eyes ablaze. _He is mine,_ she thought as he passed the babe to a midwife and a low growl escaped her throat in frustration.

 _That is my little lion cub, not yours. He's mine. Not Robert's. He is mine and Jaime's. And he will be King._

"Many congrats, Your Grace-" Grand Maester Pycelle said as the midwife placed the babe in her shaking arms, smiling fondly as she did so. "It is a girl. A Princess."

 _A girl?_ Cersei thought, surprise etching onto her exhausted features as she looked down at the gurgling babe as the midwives and handmaidens were ushered out by Maester Pycelle. All her breath left her as she stared down at her child, her daughter. The entire world around her faded as the door to the chambers closed quietly behind Maester Pycelle. It left her alone with her twin brother and their child. This was all she wanted. A smile still spread across her features as she stared down at her child, she did not care for the gender of her child but rather the fact she had a child. _My little lioness,_ Cersei thinks to herself. Despite the exhaustion and the pain she felt between her throbbing legs and back, she reached for the silk black cloth that partly covered the babe's face in desperation to see her child fully.

 _A child for Jaime and me. A little girl. A true bloodied Lannister, like me._

However as she pulled back the red and black cloth that covered her small bundle, her heart lurched and stuck in her throat. Cersei felt as if everything was at a standstill as she looked on in both disdain and devastation, a fury settling in her stomach. She looked on at her babe and took in the small ringlets of black hair and the dark green eyes that her daughter possessed, her words became caught in her throat as she shook her head in denial. _This is not Jaime's child!_ Cersei shook her head again and her eyes narrowed into slits once more as she looked at the green eyed babe.

 _This is not my little cub, this…this is a fawn!_

Cersei did not understand how this came to be, she was so _careful._ She had made sure that every morning after that fat oaf had lain with her, that she drank the moon tea and then make love to Jaime afterwards to rid herself of his foul stench. Cersei was certain then that the God's had given her a cruel jest for her sins, for loving her brother and she shook her head once more, this time, weaker as she stared on in shock and utter loathing.

 _I cannot raise this child...I can't._

The bitter anger subsided when the babe gave her a toothless smile of some sort or was it a yawn, she was uncertain but whatever look the tired babe had given her was with complete adoration that made her hardened eyes soften if only by a fraction. _No one, not even Jaime, has given me such a look._ Cersei hesitantly brought the babe up to her breast and allowed her daughter to latch on, albeit painfully when her daughter started to suck, her small hands grasping at her breast softly while she fed. Cersei sat further up in the bedding, shock still having its hold on her. She slowly turned to look at Jaime, who held disappointment in his eyes and held a solemn look on his face before he stood and turned to leave. Both of them could barely hide their disappointment, they had talked about the babe, _their_ babe for moon cycles. They had started to talk about it since discovering that she was with child.

"Jaime...I-I'm sorry," Cersei choked, cursing herself as she did so but she could not contain the shock and devastation she held.

"Cersei, there is nothing to be sorry for..." Jaime trailed off stiffly before he looked on at the babe with furrowed brows, his jaw clenched before his face softened slightly. "She is a beautiful babe, Cersei. She has our mother's eyes."

The storm had died down as Jaime left her alone in the darkness with nothing but her first born babe and bitterness. The storm was filled with life once more and her babe let out cries in time with the roaring of the thunder. Cersei's eyes trailed down to the babe and she raised a blonde eyebrow gently, cradling her child as she waited for the moment her fat, drunken oaf of a husband would appear at the doorway with a pelt from his hunt. He gave her a pelt and in turn, she gave him an heir. A child. This spurred her hatred for him even further, he was not present for the birth of his first child and her spite at him grew. Although she knew it was looked down upon to be in the chambers of a birthing woman, it did not stop her brother. Nor should it stop him. _A King._ She looked into the eyes that matched her own and all she could do was smile triumphantly.

 _This is my child,_ Cersei thought as her daughter started to scream in time with the thunder. _She is no mere stag, grazing the fields. She is a lion of the storm._

"Hush. It's alright, my sweet," Cersei whispered as she looked on at her babe. " _The storm is yours and yours alone._ "

 _A storm befitting the birth of a Baratheon,_ Cersei had thought as she looked at the daylight seeping into her chambers and listened intently to the soft snores of her babe along with the gentle birdsong outside of her window, telling her that the storm was truly over. It had been an hour or so since the birth of her babe and she had refused to leave the safety of her bed and the warmth of her chambers merely to greet Robert. She was a Queen. She did not follow commands, she ordered them.

Cersei was also slowly finding herself becoming paranoid, frightened with every hitch of her babe's breath. She did not care for the mindless noise besides that of her daughter and eventually blocked out the noise created by her servants, sitting simply in silence, staring down at her daughter. Cersei was still unable to comprehend how she had managed to conceive and birth a daughter to Robert but even with all the rage and hate she held for the pig, himself, she could not think like that towards her own blood. Her daughter.

 _Even if her father is Robert, even if she is not a true Lannister like I desired. I will love her. I will be a mother to her. She has my mother's eyes,_ Cersei thinks to herself and tilted her head slightly and looked on at her girl, who was squirming in her hold. _I cannot believe she comes from the seed of that drunken fool. No matter. I shall raise her to be a lion. She will not become a replica of his own vain self. Nor will I let him force her to become that damned she-wolf, Lyanna._ Cersei will never let that happen, she would not let her own daughter become a whore to some Northern savage and she immediately began to plot.

Her peace of mind was destroyed when she heard heavy boots clattering against the marble floor of the hallway; she did not need to strain her ears to hear Robert's boisterous and irritating no doubt drunken laughter, that made her grit her teeth and clench her jaw. A look of disdain was etched onto her features as she neared closer. Robert had returned from his hunt and she wished with all her might that he had died in the storm, never to return and would leave her and her daughter in peace.

She had envisioned his death many a time but more so now that she had a daughter, who was easily impressionable. After his death, Cersei would take her daughter back to Casterly Rock where they would live out the rest of their days. _We do not need the bastard,_ Cersei seethes to herself. She looked up just as the door swung open, banging against the wall. She saw her servants bow low in respect to Robert as he appeared at her chambers and approached her with his youngest brother, Renly at his side.

Cersei slipped from beneath the furs and stood, letting her nightgown that was bundled up to her waist fall back down to her ankles. She stood in pride as everything fell silent, she defied him by looking him straight in the eye and held her head high. Cersei had every right to do so as she clutched her daughter close to her bosom. He strode towards her, throwing the large and damp deer pelt on a nearby chair. His red and purple face from no doubt drink and running was etched into a grimace and the gut he was steadily developing over the muscle he once had, was slowly becoming great as it wobbled and moved with him. Though the look of disdain he held solely for her and her 'Lannister cunt' relatives faded after he saw her child.

His face changed from the set grimace and disdain he always held for her, to a different man. And she knew why. In her arms, in her arms was something that he could love fully, a babe that looked just like he did when he was born, when his brothers were born with the Baratheon storm blown, dark hair but she inwardly smirked, hoping that he would be disappointed once he saw her daughter's eyes. Cersei knew exactly what he was thinking then and she quirked an eyebrow softly towards him. Robert had tears gather in the corners of his blue and bloodshot eyes but he pushed them away harshly before they could be seen by the servants and his own brother but she caught it. The look in his eyes.

It was the first time since their coupling that he looked at her with something akin to kindness. It was the same look when they joined hands at their wedding, a sign that they could have been happy once. If he didn't take her like a whore and call her _Lyanna._ There was not any affection for her held in his look, that she was certain of but it was a look of gratitude that she had borne him a child. An heir. She undid the cloak adorned with a Baratheon stag and unveiled his daughter to them.

"Look at her, Robert!" Renly gasped in delight and she sneered towards the man before looking down at _her_ daughter. "A daughter, brother. A little Lyanna to call your own. I told you, you'd make it back to the little storm in time. I heard her cries from the tower and what a battle cry it was, that cry will frighten off a few suitors. You will have your hands full with her, Robert. I can tell."

 _How dare he!_ Cersei thought, looking on in offence at the stags she was cornered by and at that moment, she wished that Jaime was by her side, sneering at them. It took all her might and willpower not to lunge at the younger Baratheon and claw at his face. She held her daughter closer to her chest from that comment and felt she had won a silent battle when her babe began to suckle on her teat once more. She stared into Robert's eyes in both defiance and anger, daring him to agree with Renly. _My daughter is no bitch,_ Cersei tells herself. _She is a lioness._ Her daughter will be a lion, although she may have a different mane to her golden one that meant nothing to her now. Her daughter bore the eyes of her mother and she thought on it with a fondness, she never thought she would meet someone with the same shade her mother had. Although she knew Robert had the final say on her daughter's naming, she hoped with her heavy heart that he would give her this. _Just once._

" _Joanna_ ," Cersei said distantly as she focused solely on her daughter. "Her name will be Joanna."

"Never," Robert denied before turning and eyeing Renly. "Nor will she be _Lyanna_. I will live with no more ghosts than I already do. I shall name her _Boudicca_ and I will make a warrior out of her, yet."

" _Boudicca_ -" Renly proclaimed as she looked on vaguely at the stags and held her little lioness closer to her. " _of the House Baratheon, First of Her Name. Princess of the Seven Kingdoms and Bringer of Storms_."

* * *

Tyrion Lannister

Tyrion Lannister knew all his life, from watching and listening from the shadows that there was something _strange_ , to say the least about his older siblings, Jaime and Cersei Lannister. As a child, he would linger in the shadows and in the corners of the hallways to watch them, to observe his older siblings from afar like he did the prized birds that his Aunt Genna had brought with her and he could have watched them for hours. He even used to document how they would interact and that is when he came to find it interesting watching his siblings interact.

To most, Jaime and Cersei were behaving like any set of near identical twins. They murdered quietly to each other, leaning into whisper in the other's ear or they would laugh huskily at a joke shared between them that no one besides them knew the true meaning of. He didn't find anything odd about how they were acting. They acted like normal children growing into adulthood. They behaved like any other brother and sister.

Until one day, he noticed that Jaime and Cersei were holding hands.

A passerby may brush it off and a servant wouldn't dare question them, besides to most there was nothing wrong with holding your sibling's and relatives hand. In fact, he witnessed many siblings sharing the same closeness of hand holding. It displayed a sign that they were bonded, that they depended on each other and that they were protective of the other. Though, the way his siblings held hands, he knew from a young age it was not the normal sort.

Jaime and Cersei held hands, fingers entwined and caressing one another like a lover would stroke his wife's cheek. It was not normal, even as a child he considered it strange but something deep within Tyrion was telling him never to breathe a word of this to their father, Lord Tywin Lannister. And to this day, he still never speaks of it. Tyrion would most likely lose his head for it and to be honest, he rather liked living than dying.

He never spoke a word of it to their Lord father but he never spoke a word to his siblings either, he never confronted them about it. As a mere child, he did not have the knowledge back then to know that what they were doing was not just a game to them…that what they were doing was _real._ Their feelings were real and they certainly weren't of the familial sort. His golden haired and chiselled siblings lived in their own world and he did not want to disturb the balance of it, he feared the consequences of what would happen to others if he did so.

Tyrion has witnessed many summers and many winters, as he grew older and wiser he learnt one of the many advantages to being a dwarf. Although the cons mostly outweighed the pros, he liked this particular advantage most of all. All those that laid their eyes on him, did not take him seriously and often ridiculed him when his back was turned. After all, they wouldn't dare insult a Lannister to their face. They often ignored him, ignorantly unaware that he was their enemy.

 _My sister is one those people._

Tyrion knew that Cersei considered him less than her but he must congratulate her in a way for seeing him as a potential enemy as well, not that he would ever harm her. He could tell by the way her vicious green eyes landed on him every time he appeared in her sights. Tyrion knew that his spurned sister despised him, she blamed him for their mother's death and the reason that their rigid father smiled no longer. His older sister makes her feelings about him known at every chance she got, except little does she know he possesses dangerous information about her and his brother.

It was on his ten and fifth name day that he caught them.

In the privacy of Jaime's chambers, through a mere crack in the keyhole. It was Jaime's fatal mistake, taking the key out as he caught them. Tyrion caught his brother and sister lying in a passionate embrace on his brother's bed, kissing each other with a fierceness. He should have interrupted them then, burst into their chambers and warned them of the price they would pay should they continue, part of him to this day wished that he did, that nothing good would come of their relationship.

Tyrion did not and he knows that he will regret that decision until the end of his days.

After the union between his older sister, Cersei and the newly crowned King Robert Baratheon, the relationship between his brother and sister was growing even more dangerous. His long, blonde haired sister with a feline face still snuck to Jaime's chambers in the dead of night. His brother and sister were not _subtle_ , in fact, he wondered how many people knew about their throes of passion but alas, King Robert was a fool who would rather chase whores from Petyr Baelish' brothel and drink and eat his fill.

Tyrion was indeed an honourable man, many people would laugh straight in his face if he ever admitted it. He honoured both his family and justice. There were bad people in this world, it wasn't a world that people could write songs about. It was a cruel world, an awful one and if he could outsmart those bad people, that made life worth living. He felt as if he was making the world a better place. A small step at a time. Yet, he remained conflicted by his older siblings especially when he caught them for the third and final time.

It was behind the horses' stables and to think they could not sink any lower, they could. Tyrion had witnessed his siblings engage in lovemaking. He quickly left as quickly as he saw it, his entire being disgusting and that was the day he started to drink more wine. In fact, he probably couldn't live without it now. He needed it more than most anyway after what he saw. Tyrion knew that Jaime loved his sister; mind, heart, body and soul. Their sister unleashed this _cruelty_ in Jaime, she made him a man who would kill for her without a second thought and he did not like it. Jaime has become Cersei's puppet.

 _She_ pulls the strings. _She_ holds the cards. _She_ holds the goblet as Jaime pours the wine.

His older brother would do anything for their sister but could the same be said for her?

Tyrion sucked in a sharp breath as he opened the door slowly to Cersei's chambers, wanting to see his newborn niece or nephew, Robert having drunkenly announced he now had an heir. He was supposed to feel happy yet…all he felt was pure _dread_. His mismatched eyes flickered briefly to Jaime who was sitting at the edge of the bed before he turned his attention back to Cersei, particularly the babe wrapped in red Lannister silk in Cersei's arms. A strange emotion that he couldn't quite decipher crept up on him as he stared at the innocent child.

"What is it that you want, Imp?" Cersei asked evenly, though he could tell she was seething which would have made him smirk had it not been for the sake of preventing an argument. Tyrion took note of the seemingly peaceful and sleeping child, he was envious of the child but yet pitied them, their sleep as a babe would probably be the best sleep they would ever get before they had to grow up and endure _them._ "Get out."

"I believe a congrats is in order, sister," Tyrion responded, ignoring the insults thrown at him as he approached. His eyes never left her own. "I wished to see my new niece or nephew…may I?"

"You already have-" Cersei retorts sharply and grits her teeth, visibly shaking from anger. "Now, _leave._ "

"Cersei," Jaime sighed causing her to stare at him.

Tyrion shifted on his feet uncomfortably due to the silence that he was met with. Jaime and Cersei were staring intensely at each other and at one point he wondered if Cersei would reach over and slap Jaime in the face for daring to disobey her, he appeared to be in her arm length. After a long period of silence that he thought was beginning to settle between them, Cersei eyed him and spoke up once more.

"Her name is Boudicca," Cersei informs him. "Boudicca Baratheon."

Tyrion took this as an invitation, welcomed or not to make his way over. He reached the other side of his sister's bed and stood in front of her, tilting his head to the side as Cersei propped the babe in her arms further to her chest and his eyes fluttered closed in utter relief when he saw his niece. He thanked the Gods then that the child had dark hair.

 _A true Baratheon,_ Tyrion thinks to himself. He reopens his eyes and stared at the babe in curiosity and in wonder. Tyrion had seen babies before, just never up close. He frightened them apparently and had a hidden hope that he didn't frighten this one. Cersei would skin him alive if Boudicca started crying at the mere sight of him. He knew that this child was not Jaime's, that was for certain. This child was Robert's. And this was his niece.

"May I?" Tyrion asks, his voice lower than before as he eyes the babe in his sister's arms.

It takes his older sister a few moments of eyeing him in both disdain and weariness before trailing her eyes over her daughter's face before looking up to Jaime. After staring at Jaime for a few moments, seemingly in deep confliction and disgust, she slowly and reluctantly passed the babe over to him. Tyrion leant over and took the babe from her arms with care. He held the babe gently in his arms and stared down at the girl At Boudicca. He tests the name silently on his tongue before a smile gradually makes its way onto his face as he rocked the babe gently as the green eyes stared up at him. Their eyes both shared curiosity.

"I hope you _never_ forget who you are," Tyrion mutters as he rocks his niece with a gentleness. "The rest of the world will never forget you. Or your name. I hope you wear it like armour like I do. It will never be used to hurt you if you do. Although, I doubt your mother or father would ever let anyone hurt you. I won't let anyone hurt you either. Perhaps…perhaps it is you that will be our last chance to build a better world?"

* * *

Authors Note: Hey guys, hopefully, you like the first few chapters of 'The Warrior Queen' and I would like to thank all of you for reading. I had originally posted the rest of my Game of Thrones stories on Quotev but decided to post them on here as well. Although I posted it on Quotev, I have changed a lot of things around and added newer things and pov's into chapters. If you have any questions, feel free to ask and I will happily answer them.

Disclaimer: I don't own Game of Thrones or A Song of Ice and Fire. All the credit goes to George R.R Martin! Along with the writers of Game of Thrones, David Benioff and D.B Weiss. The only profit I take from this story is the enjoyment of writing it, I do not own any of the characters other than Boudicca Baratheon and some minor oc's. I also don't own the amazing cover image.


	2. Chapter One

_King's Landing_

Cersei Lannister

 _The storm is yours,_ Cersei thought with triumph as she looked on at her daughter. _Yours and yours alone._

It has been an eventful and long ten and five years since the storm had ravaged the Red Keep and it had been ten and five years since the birth of her first child, Boudicca or as she was lovingly called _Icca._ Her first born daughter had become an older sister to brothers Joffrey and Tommen and sister, Myrcella. As time passed and as her children grew older, it became more clear to her than ever that her eldest daughter and eldest son could not be any more different.

Cersei often wondered if the Gods were punishing her, punishing her for loving her brother. She did not love her husband, she did not love Robert, she loved her brother, her twin brother Jaime and not even the Gods could part them. They were brought into this world together, they belong together and someday they will die together. Their Lord father, Tywin Lannister cared about his legacy and prattled on about his legacy and how it would be carried on. Yet, she now found herself worrying about the legacy she would leave and her children.

Boudicca was alike _her_ father, Robert with the same dark hair and same strong features. Her daughter towered over many people at court and while she knew her daughter was not exactly a beautiful woman like herself or her younger sister, she was comely at the very least. Her daughter's body was curvaceous and heavy built. A woman would claim she was built for war but a man would claim she was built for birthing children. Although the Baratheon traits dominated her looks, her eyes were green and held the Lannister cunning. Her eldest daughter was her fawn, while her son Joffrey was her cub. Joffrey was lean, lithe and fair. He held flowing blond locks and stunning emerald eyes. Her cub was indeed handsome like the rest of her golden haired children but he was also arrogant and cruel. The stories spoke of him too kindly. Cersei was not blinded by his ways but neither was her eldest daughter nor her husband and that is when it became difficult and bothersome for her. _The Dance of Dragons,_ Cersei thought as she thinks of the civil war between the Targaryen siblings and their fight for the throne. She could not help but compare her Icca and her Joff to those Targaryen's that went to war. The fact that it did not end well for them made her feel a dread she has never felt before.

Cersei Lannister was and will never be a fool, she knew of the cruel tricks and taunts that he aimed at his younger siblings, both fair and innocent and _good_ which lead to a few brawls unworthy of her eldest children and especially of royalty. The relationship between the older siblings turned hateful when a seven year old Joffrey had gutted Tommen's pet fawn and hit Myrcella. In retaliation, Boudicca had snuck into Joffrey's chambers and attempted to throw him over his balcony. Unlike that of her son, her daughter always held a close and fierce relationship with her father, Robert. Cersei knew the only reason that the oaf gave her daughter a second glance was because she merely looked like he once did as a child.

She commented on the truth of it when Boudicca had turned eight, her daughter had overheard and after her daughter's nameday, their relationship had soured slightly though it was hardly noticeable to either of them at first. Both she and her daughter knew that she would always favour her golden haired lions over her dark haired stag. After her last argument with Robert, he would take Boudicca with him to witness and partake in his hunting trips and would even let her wield a sword much to her dismay. The unfair affection he had for Boudicca had spurred her little cub into a jealous rage, which spurned into a hatred he held for both his father and his older sister.

Cersei recalled, thinking back to her time as a child when she encountered that piss-take of a crone as she looked on at her dark haired daughter. She closed her eyes, embracing the warm breeze on her skin and sucked in a sharp, ragged breath as she remembered the woman with her wart covered face and crusty, yellow eyes peering at her and thought on the damned words of the prophecy. A small smirk crawled onto her face once more while she reopened her green eyes and looked down at her children, her attention particular set on Boudicca who was grunting and panting as she practised.

 _So much for a prophecy, piss on it, you foul woman. You are most likely dead whilst I still live._

 _Oh, aye. Seven and ten for him, and four for you._ The crone's voice taunted in her mind causing her smirk to fade, her lips pressed into a firm line as she dug her sharp, talon-like nails into the balcony, the cream brick crumbled beneath her tight grip. _The three lions, gold their crowns and gold their shrouds. And when your tears have drowned you, the Valonqar shall wrap their hands around your pale white throat and choke the very life from your body. No one, not even the iron crowned stag who runs with wolves can save you from your fate._ And then the crone's threat was followed by a cackling laughter.

 _No,_ Cersei thought fiercely as she looked down at Boudicca. She would not let her daughter become the bride of a Stark, like Robert has always wanted for her. She would not let her child become a Northerner's whore. Her daughter was born from the storm and the storm she will stay, she belongs in King's Landing with her siblings, she belongs to her. A scream was sounded, drawing her away from her thoughts and her eyes immediately landed on her daughter who clashed swords with Ser Barristan. Cersei leant over the balcony just as Jaime briskly approached her side with Tyrion following after him.

 _A warrior,_ Cersei thinks to herself as she looked on at her daughter who had been allowed to spar with Ser Barristan Selmy since childhood. She did not want her fawn practising swordplay. Her son, on the other hand, many would be overjoyed that they would have a talented swordsman for a King who could lead them into battle…instead, it was her daughter who was the swordsman and it was frowned upon. Cersei did not want her daughter mocked like her little demon of a brother. Though she begrudgingly allowed her daughter to practise but it had to be in utmost secrecy. Cersei had protested, she protested for days, weeks even but despite her protests and complaints she had brought up with Robert, all she received was a loud, drunken and obnoxious laugh along with a rough slap to the face. A smirk of triumph reappeared on her face once more, making its way onto her red lips and she ran a finger down the fading purple bruise that was left upon her cheek.

Her eldest daughter did not like when Robert hit her, after all, she was her mother and what a fight it brought every time she _attempted_ to hide a bruise from her dark haired daughter. Beside her, Jaime and her little imp of a brother, Tyrion watched on as her fawn struggled and tried to hold her own against the old Kingsguard. The old man had a fond look upon his face as they seemingly practised what appeared to be footwork. Her daughter's normally pale face was red and she was drenched in sweat from her hard labouring but a wild grin somehow still managed to stay on her face as they continued to spar. At times, Cersei saw Jaime in Boudicca. It especially shines through when she worked with a sword and that was partly the main reason her protests eventually died down but nevertheless she still was not pleased with Robert's arrangements.

 _Shut up, woman! I will make a warrior out of her,_ Robert's voice had boomed that day and echoed in her mind, reminding her as to why she loathed him. _I want at least someone representing my house that I can be fucking proud of before I die! Hear that? That's my ancestors fucking laughing at me!_

It was not always this way, her daughter was not always a warrior. Boudicca was three when Joffrey was born and for a full year after his birth, Cersei neglected her. She did not even notice the girl once her blond haired, green eyed cub of her and Jaime's was born. The Gods saw fit to punish her. Her three year old daughter had been consumed by a fever, she had caught the fever in question from one of her handmaidens and upon later uncovering the woman's identity, she was also one of Robert's whores he frequently fucked, in fact, it was the same woman who birthed him a son. She was _furious_ , furious at the fact another woman, a whore no less was mothering her child and the fact that she had passed on an illness to her daughter. The woman did not live to see out the next day.

Grand Maester Pycelle had told Cersei that night, she remembered it as if it happened last week, she remembered him telling her that her daughter would not live and all they could do was hope that Boudicca would pass gently into the night. She didn't. Cersei saw her daughter in a different light after that, she knew that her strong willed daughter could be seen as weak, as _helpless._ In need of her mother who was not there. Nor was her father. She had never felt rage like that. She too felt helpless upon listening to her daughter's delirious cries that night and she recalled the sweat that bled through her daughter's clothing and bedding. The Gods were cruel and she knew they would be vicious enough to take her first born child. _Let her live,_ Cersei prayed fiercely that night after removing the pillow that she held above her daughter's face. _Let her live. Do not let her go gently into the night._

 _Never again,_ Cersei thinks to herself. _I will never allow her to be weak again. Nor I._

"A girl she may be but she was born to wield a sword," Jaime commented and even she had to admit if her daughter was born a boy, she would have made a great warrior and King. Cersei often wondered if things would have been different if Boudicca was the one born with the cock and Joffrey was the one born with a cunt. "Barristan has taught her well, it seems."

"Her mind is sharp as her swordplay," Tyrion smirked as he raised his wine goblet to his lips but her eyes narrowed on him as she inwardly cursed the little monster. "I wonder where she gets it from? It was most certainly not from you."

 _The strength of a Baratheon, the intelligence of a Lannister._ The Lords and Ladies of the court often had that to say about her daughter. They did not talk about her beauty but rather her intelligence. Cersei looked at Boudicca over the rim of her goblet. Her eyes flickered towards the sounds of cheer and saw her youngest daughter Myrcella, watching on with glee and laughter, that brought a look of softness to her face as she watched her youngest daughter encourage her eldest. _If I can birth and raise something so innocent, so pure…like Tommen and Myrcella, perhaps I am not the monster most people think that I am,_ Cersei thinks to herself. She loved no one other than her children, no one other than Icca, Joff, Tom and Cella. They did not view her as a monster. They viewed her as their mother.

A piercing, childlike scream rang out once more and this time it did not come from Boudicca, as it was no battle cry that echoed throughout the Keep but rather Tommen's scream. She stilled, noticing her youngest son running to Boudicca which caused her daughter top immediately drop her sword to the ground and she watched as Boudicca rushed to him, she noticed Jaime visibly wince at the clattering of the beautifully crafted sword as it hit the ground.

Cersei eyed them, watching as Boudicca knelt beside her youngest son, she noticed blood running down his face and saw that his nose was bloody. She inhaled deeply, holding her breath and waited, tilting her head to the side as she watched Joffrey emerge from the shadowed part of the courtyard and stalk towards them with a smug grin settling on his face. She inwardly grimaced, seeing the looks of hate her elder children shared unbeknown to her younger children.

 _A stag butting heads with a lion._

It was always a curious yet worrying sight to behold, she had often seen her twin brother and her so-called husband give each other the same looks of repulsion and hatred and she could not help but see it reflect in her children. She heard Tyrion suck in a sharp breath, muttering how he should intervene before it got out of hand and hurriedly left the room, her twin brother seemed to agree with him and Jaime followed shortly after him leaving her alone to her thoughts and watching the tense scene unfold in front of her very eyes.

Cersei often worried about what the future held for both Boudicca and Joffrey. She knew that there will be a day, when they would eventually come to blows and one of them would land a killing blow, ending the Baratheon stag and the Lannister lion feud between sister and brother. It made her stomach unsettled, knowing that one day one of her children may be branded 'Kinslayer', like her own brother. To the eyes of the court and her husband, it was merely an aggressive form of sibling rivalry but she and her brothers knew there was a much darker, _deadlier_ intent.

She had also learned that Jon Arryn had uncovered the truth about Joffrey, Myrcella and Tommen. Her fair, green eyed cubs. Why else would he have been seen lingering around Robert's bastards in Flea Bottom along with Boudicca? He was also reading the lineage of House Baratheon and House Lannister. The houses that her daughter belonged to. Jon Arryn was suspicious and was too close to Boudicca for comfort. Cersei also knew that Boudicca may one day become the last chance of survival for herself and her golden haired children if it came down to it and both her and Jaime's secret was uncovered. Boudicca loved Tommen fiercely, Myrcella even more so. Cersei turned away from the balcony, deciding to follow her siblings and made her way towards the courtyard with a single thought in mind.

The moment that the falcon had fumbled, she had struck. It was too late for him.

 _When you play a game of thrones,_ Cersei thinks coldly to herself. _You win or you die._

* * *

Boudicca Baratheon

 _Little shite!_

Boudicca hoisted Tommen up, holding him tightly to her chest as she bid good day to Ser Barristan while she carried her little brother away from Joffrey. She gifted the boy a snarl as she roughly shoved passed him. Myrcella looked up from her book with wide eyes, quickly closing it and followed after her, trailing at her heels. Boudicca set her brother down near the small fountain in the gardens and sighed, looking at his heavily bleeding nose. She dabbed at it gently with the sleeve of her cream tunic, the crimson staining the fabric turning it brown. She eyed Joffrey carefully as he smugly strolled towards them.

She knew that Tommen and Joffrey had been practising sword fighting in the gardens with their swords of wood but she would hardly call it that. Boudicca knew it was merely just another excuse for Joffrey to play rough with their younger brother and another way to torment him. Boudicca took Tommen's word above Joffrey's and according to Tommen, all they were doing was hitting their wooden swords against each other and when Tommen let his guard down, that is when Joffrey, being the little shite that he is, struck. He had struck Tommen in the face with his sword.

"Look, Tommen-" Boudicca began, gesturing to her arm and showed Tommen the cut she had obtained early from swordplay. "It only hurts for a little while, I promise. After that, the pain goes away. See? I don't feel anything now."

It was difficult at times to lie to her sweet younger brother and sister. Boudicca knew that the pain would not subside in mere moments but his nose would most likely sting until the next day at least and even then, judging by the way he was hit and the heavy bleeding of his nose, that it will be tender for a few more days. Though those were little lies to spare their feelings, the biggest lie of all was telling them that she was happy. She wasn't and as long as Joffrey was living and breathing, she doubted she ever would find peace. Boudicca heard a sneering laughter and her eyes narrow as she slowly turns her head to face Joffrey.

"We were just _playing_ sister," Joffrey snidely informs her and leans against the wall, a pleased smirk present on his face. Her jaw clenches and she grits her teeth as she finishing tending to Tommen. "I hardly touched him. He fights like a _little girl._ He is a pathetic excuse for a Prince."

"The same could be said about you, _Joff_ ," Boudicca taunted as she rose to her feet and turned to him, glad that she was able to witness the smirk that was so proudly set on his face fall quickly. His eyes darkened as he moved away from the wall, making his way towards her with a clear intent to hurt her. His fingers twitched on the wooden sword attached to his belt.

"I'll just find someone more worth to fight," Joffrey leered. She bent down and picked up the wooden sword that Tommen had been practising with, twirling it in her hands before she gripped it in her left, her knuckles turning white from clenching it tightly. "I am the crown Prince after all."

"Then fight me," Boudicca suggested, noticing that he was rising to the challenge and he drew out the wooden sword and eyed her like a predator would do its prey. "Or are you afraid of a _little girl?_ "

"You are nothing but a disgrace to our house. You are not worthy of our name," Joffrey spat as he pointed his sword to her eye level but she merely pushed it away with the back of her hand roughly. Her eyes never leaving his. "You are a disgrace to the name, Baratheon."

"As are you," She retorted and smiled widely when Myrcella and Tommen erupted into small bouts of laughter.

A joy filled her when Tommen's laugh was heard, her brother was no longer upset and that was all she wanted. They lived a life of innocence and her smile faded then when she knew that one day, they would lose it. In the songs and poems, the Prince always somehow saved the damsel from the monster. Yet, who will save the damsel if the Prince is that monster? Joffrey may look like a Prince but behind those green eyes that were all too familiar to her, resided the monster from those stories.

Joffrey's sneering smile was lost and malice danced in his eyes as his face turned a fine shade of purple when he shook from rage. He pointed his sword shakily at her, she could see his arm shake as he held his sword in his right hand while she held her sword in her left. Boudicca knew that the Baratheon fury that they were known for was rising in him as she continued to mock him, encouraged by the laughter from their younger siblings.

"You are nothing but a girl. You could never win against me," Joffrey told her. "I won't stand for you wailing when I win."

"Are you accepting the challenge then, _little brother?"_ Boudicca asked as she raised her sword towards his neck.

"Of course, _dearest sister_ ," Joffrey scoffed but he flinched when she twirled her sword.

Her little brother, of course, was an arrogant, little fool of a Prince and she would rue the day he became King of Westeros. Though she knew that when the day came, it would not be him ruling, it would be his lecherous Small Council but worry plagued her thoughts as she looked over her shoulder to her smiling brother and sister who were cheering her on. All she stayed for was to keep them safe, to keep them safe from _him._

Boudicca often found herself laughing at the irony of the fairy tales. He may look like the fair and valiant Prince from the stories but appearances were _very_ deceiving. Joffrey was cruel and unkind, his eyes gleamed with nothing but madness and darkness. She knew nothing good would ever come of him and thought up her uncle Jaime for a moment. He was branded a Kingslayer after the death of the Mad King, the thought of her too sharing the name Kingslayer with him when she comes to blows with her brother unsettled her. For now, though, she would teach him a lesson, a lesson that not even his Hound, Ser Sandor Clegane could save him from.

"You look nervous," Boudicca muses while her green eyes light up in satisfaction at his twitching eye.

"I'll carve your bloody heart out and give it to mother on her nameday!" Joffrey shouted and she snickered at his attempt in threatening her.

"I do not want to hurt you brother," Boudicca taunts and this time, the giggles from her younger siblings turned into roars of laughter. This urges her further as they circle each other, "Imagine how our mother would feel?

" _I'm going to kill you!"_ Joffrey roared with ferocity, sounding like a lion himself as he charged at her.

Joffrey swung his sword towards her, swinging wildly like a rabid animal but she merely dodged and ducked away from his brutal swing. Although it was a mere wooden sword, it would still do her some damage with the brute force he was swinging at her with. Boudicca knew it would gift her a couple of bruises or would most likely break a few bones if he hit her. Boudicca's dark hair flew wildly in the wind as they moved back and forth, soon the playful jests and swings she took at him had become serious as she blocked his vicious strikes with her own wooden sword. He started screaming at her with each harsh blow.

" _I'm going to gut you, cunt!"_ Joffrey snarled, lunging forward and made an attempt to stab her.

Her eyes widened at his threat, knowing that he was completely serious and Boudicca spun around quickly, sidestepping away from him to avoid his attack aimed at her chest before she swung her sword around and whacked him harshly on his arse. The powerful blow caused Joffrey to fall face first into the ground, he let out unearthly snarls as she brought the wooden sword up and stuck it into the dirt ground. Boudicca looked across to Tommen and Myrcella as they cheered for her. Her face turned to stone when she turned to face Joffrey, who began to scramble to his feet but she picked up his sword and she brought the pointed tip of the wooden sword underneath his chin and gently lifted his chin so that their eyes met.

"Had his been made of steel and had I been an enemy of yours, you would have been dead," Boudicca stated coldly. "You need to learn how to fight your own battles not everything can be answered with a mere fire of a crossbow. To kill and to rule are not the same thing. If you are going to be the ruler of the Seven Kingdoms, you need to prepare yourself for those that may desire to strike you down. You are young and we both know that father is not long for this world."

Boudicca tossed the wooden sword aside and turned sharply on her heel, beginning to walk away from him but as she neared Myrcella and Tommen, Joffrey grabbed her roughly by the arm. She made an attempt to shrug his grip off but when she did, she felt a piercing pain in her flesh and looked to see that her brother had stabbed her arm with a concealed dagger that he had hidden up his sleeve. Boudicca let out a scream from both anger and pain as he dragged it into her flesh.

She fell to her knees, her knees meeting the ground harshly and clutched her wound as Joffrey pulled the dagger away. Her younger siblings rushed to her, letting out cries for help and pleas for their brother to stop. Boudicca's downcast eyes looked slowly up to Joffrey, anger and hate dancing in her eyes. Myrcella reached over and clutched her bleeding arm tightly, trying to prevent it from bleeding any heavier than it was. Tears welled up in her green eyes but she pushed them back and looked on at her brother.

" _When I am King-"_ Joffrey promised, his eyes filled with malice as he threw the bloodied dagger towards her. " _I'll gut you like a fish, sister."_

" _And when I become a warrior_ ," Boudicca said, struggling to talk through the pain as she heaved but their eyes mirrored each other. " _I will fight you 'till my dying day_."

* * *

Stannis Baratheon

" _My Lord_ ," His squire said, interrupting his pressing thoughts.

"Yes?"

"The King requests your presence in his chambers, my Lord," His squire nervously stammers causing him to look impassively on the trembling man.

"The King does not make _requests_ ," Stannis corrects him sharply. "The King _commands_."

"O-Of course, my Lord-" Marq stutters. "I beg pardon, my Lord."

Stannis let out a long, heavy sigh and eyed the boy stumble down the hall and he briskly followed after him. He hoped that one day the boy of ten and five would come to realise that he did not want to harm him unless of course, he was traitorous or was willing to conspire against him. The boy tried his patience with the mere way he spoke and he often had to correct the boy. The boy stammered and trembled every time he had to talk to him and he took note to rid himself of the boy for another squire and demote the boy to a cup bearer but even then he thinks that he may spill the wine from his shaking hands.

He entered Robert's chambers and his brows furrowed. There were many squires and cup bearers rushing around his brother's chambers that he did not share with his wife. Stannis observed them for a few moments and they appeared to be packing. _This is not a good time to leave King's Landing,_ Stannis thinks to himself coldly. Jon Arryn's death did not surprise him, in fact, it only made certain of his suspicions of the Lannister twins, Cersei and Jaime.

 _The seed is strong,_ Stannis remarked to himself. _I know their secret, am I in danger too? For what I have discovered?_

Jon Arryn may have been old but he was wise and sharp, he was still full of _life._ To die unexpectedly definitely brought suspicion, though the rest of the Small Council did not have enough gall to question his death even though they most likely knew as well and as for the Court of King's Landing, they were too concerned about their appearance than question House Lannister or the Queen. He had recalled the day of Jon Arryn's death, the man was lying in his bed, writhing from pain and murmuring deliriously but he called a name that captured his interest. He called Boudicca's. His niece was brought to the man's chambers and the man whispered to her until his final breath. And whatever he said to her, left her shook to the core when he recalled her paling face.

Stannis did not like the fact that Robert was intending to leave King's Landing, so suddenly after the death of Jon Arryn. The Hand of the King. The man was like a second father to Robert and he wondered briefly if his brother was in the right state of mind to be leaving King's Landing. Even more so, as he had not discussed who he would name the new Hand. He had hoped his brother would be reasonable and appoint him, he would sort out the likes of the Lannister's and the ever scheming Lord Petyr Baelish.

"Leave us!" Robert boomed, motioning for his servants to leave.

Stannis eyed each servant coldly as they scurried out of the door but Cersei's cousin, Lancel Lannister lingered at the door. _No doubt spying for her,_ Stannis thought. Lancel Lannister was another puppet of the Queen's, she had one puppet too many. An impassive stare from him and a sneer from Robert was all it took or Lancel to leave, closing the door behind him. The noise and weight of the door shook the entire chambers, knocking various things over along with Robert's goblet of wine causing his brother to curse loudly.

"Jon Arryn is dead," Stannis said bluntly, uncaring if he had upset Robert as he moved forward. "You have a Lannister in your Kingsguard. You have a Lannister as your squire. You have a Lannister as your cup bearer. Tell me, brother, will you appoint a Lannister as the Hand of the King too? We are stags in a lion's den. I do not like the decisions you have made, Robert."

"Fucking right! I hate the smug, green eyed bastards!" Robert swore, looking on in disdain at him. "Besides, I-"

"Is it truly wise to leave King's Landing?" Stannis interrupts sharply. "So soon after Jon Arryn's death? Where do you intend to go?"

"I know how it looks, do you not think I know how it looks?" Robert asks.

Stannis looked on at his brother with a blank stare, waiting for him to continue. Robert was not a good King, both high born and low born could tell that he did not make a good King. The wine he consumed daily clouded his judgement frequently and therefore Stannis was certain that his priorities and rulings were not reliable. With Robert gone, Stannis knew that it would force his hand and he would have to leave with his fleet for Dragonstone. If not, he will be meeting the same fate after Jon Arryn.

"Where do you intend to go?" He questions calmly, though he grits his teeth in irritation.

"Winterfell," Robert tells him. "We ride for Winterfell."

"Winterfell," Stannis repeats, he stills and finds himself shocked at the admission.

 _Winterfell,_ Stannis thinks to himself. _The heart of the North._ It would take a month's journey to arrive at Winterfell and a month's journey to come back to King's Landing. Though, that did not count how long Robert intended to stay at Winterfell for. _Days? Weeks?_ Stannis' lips pressed into a firm line, his stern face growing cold at the lack of responsibility his brother was showing him. _Why would he want to go to Winterfell, of all places?_ Stannis asks himself. "I know you and Lord Stark were fostered together. I know that Lord Jon Arryn was alike that of a father to you both but...you have not seen Lord Stark in years. It would not be wise to travel for Winterfell, command him to come to King's Landing. He cannot refuse the command of the King. Why must you travel to Winterfell?"

"Lord Stark?" Robert snorted, chuckling deeply. "His name is Ned."

 _He may be your Ned but not to me. He is Eddard Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North. He does not go by just 'Ned'_ , Stannis corrects though he does not voice it.

"I intend to make Ned my Hand," His brother trailed off causing his eyes to narrow.

"Lord Stark has not set foot in King's Landing since the rebellion. He does not know of Southern politics," Stannis points out before he notices a strange emotion in Robert's eyes. "That is not the only reason you are leaving for Winterfell...is it?"

"I wish to visit Lyanna's grave," Robert sighed and his blue eyes became sorrowful. "Besides, Winterfell is _beautiful._ I have longed for it along with _her_. I also wish to make betrothals for Boudicca and Joffrey."

"To whom?" Stannis inquired.

"Ned has a son about my Boudicca's age," Robert said gruffly. "He also has a daughter about Joffrey's age. It is destined. All my life I have wanted House Baratheon and House Stark to be joined, to be joined together, now it can be."

"I do not care for who you betroth your children too," Stannis retorts stiffly. "That is of little importance as of late. I want to know why Eddard Stark? What does he know about ruling? He knows nothing about how to be the Hand of the King, unlike me."

"Do you have someone better, brother?" He chuckles. "I could appoint Littlefinger or Varys. You hate them. You don't think I know the looks of repulsion you give them and how you always moan about them, you've infected my daughter with your bloody whining. All she does is whine about why I shouldn't have such snakes in my Small Council. Or perhaps, perhaps I will appoint Tywin? He was once Hand of King. He has experience, like you want for the Hand of the King. He knows about ruling. But then again, you hate the amount of Lannister's in King's Landing already. Or what about our little brother, Renly? I could always make _him_ my Hand?"

"You do so..." Stannis begins impassively, clasping his hands behind his back as he glares at him. "And this realm will _bleed_."

"I have no other options then!" Robert thunders. "Who should I make my Hand?"

"I have been the Master of Ships for many years," He tells him. "I have worked alongside Jon Arryn. I know the way of ruling."

"You talk shite!" Robert laughed, a grin appearing on his face. "You may know about running my fleet and naval battles...but running the realm? As my hand? You jest!"

"The North is a kingdom. It has been for thousands of years before King's Landing was even formed. It is not wise, taking the Warden away from running the North. His eldest son and heir, he is ten and seven, isn't he? What does the boy know about running Winterfell let alone the entirety of the North? Lord Stark may govern the North like one would do a Kingdom, making him suitable enough for the job as your Hand but...I think of the entire realm not just King's Landing, if the North falls so does the realm. Is it not _seven_ kingdoms? You cannot focus on ruling one kingdom without ruling the other six."

"The rules. The laws. The realm. You prattle on and on about it, I am growing bored, brother. You must think I am a _fool_ ," Robert sneers and points at him with a large finger. "You are not doing this for the realm. You are doing this for yourself, you always have and you always will. You wish for me to choose you as the Hand of the King instead. Ned, Jon and I. Most of my good memories were of the Eyrie, of _them_." Stannis watches as Robert's eyes grow blank, no doubt remembering his younger days before he continued once more, "He can do a much better job than you can. No one can question his honour and nobility. _No one._ If he cannot do it, he can learn. He's much better company than you dreadful lot anyway."

"Company? Is that the only reason you will appoint him your Hand is for his _company_?" Stannis said, his voice low. "If Jon Arryn were alive he would remind you of your duty to the realm, like I intend to do so. I am warning you brother, do not make Eddard Stark your Hand."

"Jon Arryn loved me like a son, loved Ned like a son! He raised us! Ned and I, we were brothers!" Robert boomed, marching for him until his face was inches from his own. "Ned and I, we will be together, just like old times. Ned. He will always have my back. I know he will never betray me. Go! Go back to Dragonstone! Take your smuggler, your lunatic wife and your daughter with you! Eddard will become my Hand, his son will take over his duties at Winterfell with my eldest daughter by his side. She will take the name Stark. Eddard's daughter will marry Joffrey and he will become King after my death with a Stark ruling by his side as his Queen and wife!"

Stannis merely stared at him impassively, eyeing him for a moment or so before turning sharply on his heel, storming out of Robert's chambers. He ignored the roars and snide remarks of Robert that the echoing of the halls carried to him as he started to make the arrangements to leave for Dragonstone with the entirety of his fleet.


	3. Chapter Two

_Winterfell_

Boudicca Baratheon

' _I'm sorry, my dear girl. I must tell the King the truth. You must be strong! The seed is strong! You are strong, remember that! Tell him!'_

Boudicca stared impassively at the cold, barren lands that they were riding through and her breath hitched when the last words that Jon Arryn said to her echoed hauntingly in her mind. His words were like a puzzle she would never solve. She considered Lord Arryn like that of a grandfather. He was wise, wiser than anyone besides her Uncle Tyrion and he was also caring and ever so kind and helpful to her, especially when it came to her studies. She thought of his last words in confusion. He spoke those words the day of his passing, the day before he took an _illness_ and had passed. Lord Jon had been paler than he usually was and feverish, jittery with everything he did and muttered constantly and incoherently under his breath.

She made Storm, her gentle speckled brown horse go into a steady trot beside her father and the very few Kingsguard he rode with. Even after four weeks of travelling to Winterfell, Boudicca was still in a state of shock as she could still picture his terrified face when he spoke those chilling words to her, those words that were unknowingly his last. They had been riding for a moon's worth and as they neared Winterfell, the nights had grown colder and longer allowing the words to plague her mind when the world was quiet. The words put her off her sleep and anything she desired to eat made her stomach churn.

The journey had also allowed her injured arm to heal after travelling with it bound in a sling, even now it still throbbed if she moved her arm with a sudden jerk and she knew that she would have to build up muscle strength in her weak arm once they got to Winterfell, though riding Storm and grasping onto the reins was a help in doing that. _Little bastard,_ Boudicca sneered to herself as she thought of her brother and looked over her shoulder to the carriage and saw her brother riding beside it, his horse weaving in and out. If he fell off his horse once more, this will have been the tenth time he has fallen, not that she was complaining, every time he did fall it brought her delight.

"This is bloody ridiculous!" Her father spat, which shook her from her thoughts and she turned to face her father, urging her horse closer to his own. Another way she has been tortured during this journey was listening to her father's never ending complaints and rants that she has been subjected to. "We would have been there two bloody weeks ago if it was not for those damned carriages and…and _that_ woman." Her father huffs then, eyeing the carriage with a glare before spitting at the ground and turns back to face her with a smile. "What say you, dear girl, want to ride on and leave those shites in the carriage behind us? Ned and I did this in our youth, we used to challenge each other to a race when we grew closer."

Boudicca could not help but let a small chuckle escape her lips as she set her horse into a canter with a click of her tongue. She could not help but agree and sympathise with her father at this point, without the carriages or stopping for the three day meals her mother desired, they would have reached Winterfell in two weeks but now those two weeks have passed and the two weeks turned into four, nearing on five. Although she did not mind travelling for longer as she got to enjoy the beauty of the Northern wilderness but what she truly was worried for was the schemes that the Small Council had whilst they were gone.

"Those 'shites' are _my_ mother and siblings. Your wife and children," Boudicca reminded her father with a loose chuckle. "It shouldn't be too much farther, don't worry. You will see Lord Stark and Winterfell once more."

"I wouldn't be too sure, my girl," Robert retorted and a smile made its way onto his face and he inhaled deeply. "Smell the fresh, crisp air, dear girl! That's the winter air, not that pissy stench in the South. Inhale deeply, you will never get such air like this again. We are near Winterfell, I can feel it. Let me tell you, if we are not there by the end of the day. I swear to the Gods that I will burn that carriage down and give them a horse!"

"I'll take you up on that offer, father," She replied an eager smile adorning her face as she sped up her horse. "Shall we?"

"I'd love nothing more!" Her father boomed loudly and turned back to face the Kingsguard that were riding slightly behind them. "Trant, Moore-My daughter and I are riding ahead, keep guard of that shitty carriage!"

"Yes, Your Grace," They replied simultaneously before they steered their horses away.

Boudicca was the first to take off and her horse gathered dirt beneath his feet, creating a small dust cloud as they rode off into the distance and with that, her father and herself began a race for Winterfell. She knew that Storm needed it as he held a giddiness in his step when he sped further on. Boudicca stood up slightly on the steps of her saddle and grasped the reins, wrapping them tighter around her wrists and let out hollers and cheers as her horse sped up.

 _This is freedom._

"Now, this is how I remember riding to Winterfell!" Her father roared in excitement. "I remember this path!"

"Let us ride on, then!" Boudicca screamed after him, pacing her horse before a teasing smirk danced across her features. "I understand it might be tough for you, father. You will be perhaps dead by the time we reach Winterfell from the effort and let us not forget your poor horse, carrying around your _great_ belly!"

"Ah, the _cheek_ of it!" He snarked and they laughed until she grew red in the face. "I'll show you, you little cheeky shite. There is still some life in me yet!"

Boudicca laughed loudly before she sped off into the distance but what she did not take into account was her father's horse was larger, stronger and faster than her own and by the looks of it, her father made sure she knew it when he managed to storm up the hill before her. She directed Storm into a steady and slow gallop, she patted and stroked the side of his head softly and tried regaining her breath. Boudicca slowly made her way up the hill to her father who was wheezing heavily. All signs of laughter fell from her father's face and she even found her own smile dying down when she looked upon the castle ahead of them. _Winterfell_.

 _It was beautiful._

"I had once planned on sending you here to be fostered by Ned," Her father said solemnly which caught her by surprise. "He has a son ages with you, Robb. That's what you need for a husband; a just, honourable Stark not one of those Southern shites that your mother intends to match you with. Or a cousin. You need an honourable man. Ned Stark has made a much better father than I. Look at me, I cannot even remember when Tommen was born."

"You are _my_ father," Boudicca stated fiercely and eyed Winterfell. "I do not care for honour or for whatever these Northerners are made of. I happen to like my father, no matter how great his belly is. Though, I have to ask. Why did you not send me to Winterfell then? What made you change your mind? Was it mother?"

"I…I guess I would have missed you more than I realised," He replied sincerely but his face hardened as his eyes met her own. "Your mother and all the rest of them at the stupid Small Council were in a debate. They thought it wise to either send you under the care of Tywin Lannister or marry you to that cripple Tyrell boy once you bled. I knew you were worth more than that then. I looked that bitch in the eye and told her 'fuck that' and I intended to make a warrior out of you and I did. Though, I should have sent Joffrey…I was going to send him five years ago…before his tenth name day."

Boudicca stilled as she remembered the upcoming events before her brother's tenth name day and her breath hitched as King Robert snarled. She knew that he remembered the events that took place as well and that is when the relationship with her brother, Joffrey and her mother truly did turn sour and darker. _Mother always turned a blind eye to him and his cruel ways,_ she thought as she stared at her father warily and braced herself for what was to come.

"He has always been a little shite!" Her father snarled, his blue eyes becoming stormy. "I can still remember the day he cut open Tommen's cat…what was its name again-"

"Icca," Boudicca offered and sucked in a sharp breath. _Since the day he could speak. He always promised he would gut me and that is as close as he got to it._ "Icca. Her name was Icca."

"Yes, _Icca_! Tommen had named the bloody thing after you! He cut open the heavily pregnant cat and handed your mother and I an unborn kitten…it was the most revolting thing I witnessed a child do," Robert stated. "And then there was the hunt, the little shite. He's not a true Baratheon. A Lannister, through and through. Exactly like his mother, everywhere I look, I see _them."_

"Mother…mother can be reasonable," She said, trying to ease his wrath and the tension as she saw the carriage draw closer.

"Oh, aye! I know that " He drawled sarcastically. He nodded, his chin wobbling with his belly as he did so. "You remember what happened during the hunt? Don't you? It's a sacred Baratheon tradition, has been for years. We all have proven ourselves Baratheon's, except him. I remember taking you on your first hunt, ah, that was exhilarating, watching you take down the buck with your axe. I remember my first hunt! I took down my buck with a _spear_. Stannis with a sword. Renly, with a mace. And then there's… _him_. He disgraced our name, the very fury we stand for. It is rare to see a Baratheon fail and I know of only one. Your great, great granduncle. He was a sickly child and failed but he had immense courage! He was remembered with honour, he tried to take that buck down with his bare bloody hands. And what did Joffrey do, _girl?"_

"He shot it with a crossbow," Boudicca murmured and closed her eyes as she prepared for a lifelong rant that took away years on her life.

" _My son! The Crowned Prince! The Heir to the Iron Throne!_ Using a crossbow to kill a buck, not even a bow and arrow but a crossbow! I almost died on my horse that day," Robert ranted. He paused to take a deep, laboured breath and she opened her eyes to see his fetched etched with agitation and sweat ran down his forehead, which he wiped away with the back of his hand. "You used an axe, I used a spear and my father used a sword. The founder of our house snapped its neck with his _bare hands_. What did my bloody son do? He used a crossbow and missed ten times no less. The first Baratheon in the history of our house to do so. _Disgraceful!"_

Boudicca sighed, taking strands of black hair out of her face to look closer at her father and she grimaced slightly, seeing the hurt lingering in his storm blazed eyes. She knew humiliation was not the only reason he was hurt or the fact that their ancestors were probably laughing at her father but for the fact that Jon Arryn had been like a father to him. And now, now he was gone. She was startled from her thoughts when his large, sweaty hand gripped her chin and pulled her and her horse closer to him.

"I have made many mistakes in my lifetime and you, you _are not_ one of them," Her father informed. She looked him in the eye surprised with the softness in his voice that she never knew he had much less possessed and the pride evident in his voice made her heart swell. All her life Boudicca wanted the approval of her mother and father. "I've heard of the stories, _Bringer of Storms._ You were born during the greatest storm known to the Red Keep. It had massacred hundreds of people in its wake. And I knew, I knew then you were born to be a warrior. On your ten and third name day, you decided to take down a buck, taking an axe to it. I could have wrung your neck, you almost died but you took it down! Jon and I wanted to send you to Winterfell, but…but things _changed."_

"Perhaps I may like it better in Winterfell," Boudicca teased softly. "Perhaps I may want to stay and leave you in the den of lions."

"Ah, I'm going soft in my old age," Robert said as a grin slowly appeared on her father's face once again. "You may leave me in the lion's den, daughter but I will throw you to the wolves."

"And I would return to you with a pack," She retorted before turning to face Winterfell once more.

With that, she and her father fell into silence once more and they marvelled at the beauty of Winterfell. They looked on at Winterfell, waiting for the rest of the assembly to arrive but she found herself uncaring for them as she looked on at the castle in peace. Boudicca felt the cold winds blow against her face and she felt the sharpness of it, almost as if it was biting and kissing her face. For some reason, she felt her father had another motivation for journeying to Winterfell to make Lord Ned his Hand. And she somehow felt it would involve her, she knew that somehow, someway the moment she entered those walls, her fate would change.

 _We live in a beautiful world,_ Boudicca thinks to herself as her horse starts forward in a steady trot from a gently pat of the right side of his neck. Her eyes never leave Winterfell. She could hear her father hollering for Joffrey who was riding aback his horse but was beside the carriage though his roars were drowned out by her thoughts. _Despite everything, I still think the world we live in and the sights we see are beautiful._

* * *

Robb Stark

Robb Stark stood still, adjusting his furs slightly as he and his family watched for the Royal family to arrive. He, Jon and Theon all had to have their faces clean shaven in preparation for the King, the Queen and their children. He grunted slightly in dissatisfaction, it had taken him many days and nights to grow even a shadow of a stubble but now he had nothing again but he was not the only one irritated, Jon was too. Jon loved his hair above all. It was a joke shared between the three of them. No woman could hold Jon's heart, he loved his hair more. He could hear his half brother shift slightly behind him and he turned around to face him, giving him a look of reassurance before turning back and faced the front along with his siblings. Robb knew it would be especially hard for Jon. He hated the fact that Jon was excluded by his mother and that only confirmed his first rule when he became Lord of Winterfell after his father.

 _I'll give you a true name,_ Robb promises to Jon. _I'll give you the name Stark._

" _Where's Arya?"_ His mother demanded, looking to his younger auburn haired sister. "Sansa, where is your sister?"

His sister at ten and three simply shrugged and as his mother tsked in annoyance, he tried to stop the smirk that was slowly forming on his face when he caught his nine year old sister, Arya in his sights. A few minutes later, the girl in question came running towards them wearing a helm. He let out a loud chuckle which quickly fell when his mother turned sharply to face him, gifting him a stern look but nevertheless he still let a smile appear on his face.

 _My younger sisters, Sansa and Arya,_ Robb thought fondly. _As different as night and day._

"Hey-" His father, Lord Eddard Stark said, catching his mischievous sister by the arm and removed the helmet from her head, revealing her long face, bright grey eyes and messy hair. "Where were you going with that on?"

He watched as his father handed the helm to Rodrik Cassel before giving Arya a gentle guidance towards Sansa and his younger brothers, seven year old Bran and three year old Rickon. _Here they come_ , Robb thought on as the first of the royal company arrived. The flagbearers atop of their brown horses holding the sigils of the Houses of Baratheon and Lannister, soon enough Winterfell was covered in Baratheon stags and Lannister lions. He inwardly grimaced, the array of colours were bright and intruding on his eyes. The grey and white of his home clashing with the black, red and yellow that was above their heads.

The first set of horses came first and he immediately recognised King Robert Baratheon and was both shocked and disappointed as he looked on the man's purple-pink face and massive belly. He wondered what went wrong in the man's life and made a vow to himself at that moment to never end up like the man he was staring at. _He was nothing like my father's stories told,_ Robb thinks to himself with wide eyes.

His gaze then turned to the Crown Prince, who rode badly behind his father. The boy that was ages with Sansa stumbled atop of his horse, grasping the reins awkwardly but he did not doubt the boy's confidence as he attempted to ride proudly into the yard. He looked on at Prince Joffrey and yet again was filled with wonder, he wondered how the boy was related to the King. Robert bore dark hair and joyful eyes that held no malice while Joffrey bore light features; golden curls and light, emerald eyes but he stilled slightly, looking on in offence as Joffrey looked on with disdain at his home.

 _Little shite._

Though he caught, he was not sure what he caught in the boy's eyes but he managed to. It was a darkness, a dark gleam that glinted like a steel blade would under sunlight. The boy's held a malice, a promise of darker days to come and he shifted slightly, uncomfortable when the boy's eyes landed on him before moving on.

Robb gave Sansa a sidelong glance with his blue eyes and saw her face instantly light up like a candle. He looked to the Crown Prince and saw that he was grinning towards his auburn haired sister but if he were honest, it came across as more of a leer to him than a smile. He immediately decided that he would hate him and he had not even spoken to him yet.

King Robert dismounted his horse and all of them bowed or knelt. Robert approached, Robb found himself entranced by the way his belly led him towards his father, who was kneeling. Robert scoffed, letting out a guttural noise and gestured for his father to stand. And as soon as his father stood up, he followed suit with everyone else in the courtyard.

"Your Grace," His father said respectfully, bowing his head.

Robb looked on as the King cocked his head to the side never taking his eyes of his father. Though, that was to be expected. He and his father had not seen each other since Greyjoy's Rebellion. And after a moment of silence in inspecting his father, the King's stormy blue eyes trailed up to meet his father's grey.

"You've gotten fat," Robert remarked casually.

Robb's eyes widened slightly, his mouth opening and closing. He cursed himself, knowing that he looked like a trout at that very moment but he did not know that the King would come out with something like that and wondered if the King was intoxicated. He looked nervously onwards towards the King and his Lord father, wondering how his father would reply to the insult. To his surprise, his father's eyes merely trail down and gesture to the King's great belly that any man could make a story from and he raised his bushy brow as if to say to the King, 'the same could be said about you'.

At that, the King's serious complexion relaxed and the King broke into laughter, pulling his father into a bone crushing hug and they were once again old friends. Robb rolled his shoulders, relaxing instantly. A smile appeared on his face then at the rekindling of an old but never forgotten friendship. After his siblings were vaguely introduced, the King came to stop at him. He shook his large hand upon introduction.

"You're it then," Robert began, a large smile present on his face. "Ned and Cat's eldest. Robb. The heir to Winterfell."

"That I am, Your Grace," Robb said courteously with a firm nod of his head.

The King shook his hand roughly before he moved on to greet his mother in an embrace, wrapping her up in his large arms and thick fur cloak and crying her name in delight. King Robert pulled away from his mother, gifting her a large smiling before turning to face Ned just as the Queen emerged from the carriage with her children but he furrowed his brows. _I thought the King and Queen had two daughters?_ Robb thought.

"Wait until you see her, Ned," Robert boomed, glancing from him back to his father and then turned to the carriage. "Boudicca, dear girl, come here!"

 _Princess Boudicca?_ Robb wondered.

He had heard stories of her but had never actually seen the Princess in the flesh. The smile that adorned his face slowly fell, he had half-expected her to step out from the carriage like the Queen, Prince Tommen and Princess Myrcella did. Instead, she rode forward on a brown stallion with white speckles with the remaining royal company and dismounted from the horse with a grunt. And as she walked over; his heart was at a loss.

She held no soft features like Princess Myrcella or beauty like that of the Queen or held herself like his lady-like sister, Sansa but rather she held a _wild_ beauty. She was an unconventional beauty. He doubted that she would ever be considered beautiful in the South or in warmer climates, perhaps some may consider her pretty at a stretch. She was not lithe or willowy like most woman of their age that he had seen but was a towering, imposing figure.

She had rougher and roguish features. She looked like a Wildling dressed in fine clothing and even with the black and gold dress she wore, she still looked odd in it. Yet, he found it both beautiful and appealing. His eyes trailed over her frame and he knew that she had practised some form of swordplay in the way she moved towards them, not even the dress could hide the fact. Her stride was confident and fierce. Like a wolf stalking its prey.

He settled onto her face and he inspected her features, comparing her to her siblings, she was the night to their day. With dark, untamed locks and through her wild hair, he found green eyes staring back at him with a raised brow. She seemed to be inspecting him like he was her. His eyes trail down her figure once more, taking in her large hips and thighs before looking back to her eyes. Robb made a decision then as he watches her pat her father on the shoulder and a large grin stretches onto her face.

 _She was no Princess, but rather a Warrior._


	4. Chapter Three

_Winterfell_

Arya Stark

Arya's brows furrowed and she grunted, trying to focus on her needlework. She looked down in disdain at the flimsy piece of cloth that she had made an attempt to sew. It was meant to be the sigil of their house, of a direwolf but yet again her needlework was messy and the lines were crooked. In a huff, she picked at the threads that were hanging out of the cloth in irritation as _she_ would no doubt make her redo it. Arya did not like Septa Mordane or the old witch, as she called her, the woman often said that she had the hands of a blacksmith, callused and 'unladylike'. Her downcast grey eyes looked slowly up from her needlework and she glanced at the blonde haired Prince Myrcella from the corner of her eye, who was seated next to her. The Princes were practising swordplay in the yard while the Princesses were meant to be practising needlework with them. Yet she felt an injustice was thrust upon her. _Where is the Bringer of Storms?_ Arya asked herself with a frown.

"Well done," Septa Mordane whispered with an encouraging smile to Myrcella and began talking to her softly.

Arya looked at Myrcella, her green eyes were focused completely and utterly on her needlework and her face was etched into one of concentration but a soft smile somehow still managed to stay on the girl's face. Her eyes trail down to the piece of cloth held in the girl's hands that were adorned with red silk gloves and noticed that Myrcella's needlework was like her own. _Crooked._

Arya turned to face her older auburn haired sister, Sansa, who was seated next to Jeyne Poole, Beth Cassel. She screwed up her long face and straightened her back from her slouched pose and eyed her sister's needlework, that was laid gently on her lap. _A lion?_ Arya asked herself, taking in the golden thread that took the shape of a lion with green eyes. _Perfect,_ Arya scoffed to herself and dragged her eyes before she noticed that Sansa was no longer at her needlework. The three Ladies were huddled closer together on their wooden chairs, talking and giggle quietly in hushed whispers. They looked like a flock of gossiping birds.

"What are you three talking about?" Arya spat, her eyes narrowed but she was merely ignored.

"Did you see the looks that the Crown Prince was sending you? I overheard him talking with the _Queen_ herself, he says that you are quite the beauty. It is known that the King came here to unite House Stark with House Baratheon. You may be Queen someday, Sansa!"Jeyne whispered excitedly, covering her mouth with the back of her hand as she giggled softly. Arya's eyes snapped towards her blue eyed sister who's normally pale face reddened because of the mentioning of Joffrey though all Arya could do was roll her eyes. _Why Joffrey?_ Arya asked herself. _He's a prick._

"We can stay in King's Landing," Beth gushed. "Isn't that wonderful, Sansa? You will be Queen of Westeros and will give birth to Princes and Princesses. You will be even grander than Queen Cersei."

"He's so handsome," Sansa agreed with a blush before turning to Arya. "What do you think of Prince Joffrey, Arya?"

"I hate him," Arya said without care and snorted when the three girl's gasped in horror. "Jon thinks he looks like a girl. Besides, I like Boudicca better."

"Arya!" Sansa exclaimed angrily, raising her voice and began scowling at her from across the room but was nevertheless shocked at her confession. _I'm not alone in thinking this,_ Arya scoffs to herself. "Joffrey is the Crown Prince. You cannot insult him in front of his sister. Joffrey _is_ handsome, Jon is just jealous because he is a bastard and he will never be a King."

"Don't fight," Myrcella pleaded quietly. Both she and Sansa turned to face the green eyed girl in shock. "Lady Arya is right. Joffrey is horrible."

"I knew it," Arya hissed and a cruel smile stretching onto her face. "Jon is more a man than Joffrey will _ever_ be. Joffrey's pathetic. All he does is whine."

"Princess Myrcella, Joffrey is your brother," Sansa stated but Myrcella shook her head timidly, eyeing them both shyly.

"Nevertheless…he is cruel, brother or not," Myrcella said softly.

Arya eyed her in suspicion when she saw the blonde haired Princess visibly shudder and her green eyes widened briefly in fear, glazing over slightly as if she was revisiting a horrible memory. She honestly did not know the extent of how badly Joffrey was but she did know some things and she followed her gut and instincts more so than her heart and mind, and she did not like the feeling she got from Joffrey. It wasn't a nice one. He looked and acted _cruel_.

"See-" Arya insisted, turning back to face her sister. "Even the Princess agrees with me."

"I think Princess Boudicca is some sort of a wild animal," Jeyne confessed and Beth nodded in agreement but Arya merely scoffed.

"Did you see the way she rode into Winterfell?" Beth asked, giving Sansa a side glance. "She looks like a _Wildling_ and rides like a _man_."

"Well, I like her!" Arya retorted in defence to the dark haired woman.

Arya let out a small groan and clutched her needlework to her chest as Septa Mordane neared her, having heard her rising voice. Sansa turned to face Jeyne and Beth in outrage, especially at the prospect of them having insulted Boudicca. After all, Boudicca was still a _Princess_ no matter how she presented herself. _I hope they get their heads cut off for saying it,_ Arya thinks. Her older sister turned quiet upon noticing the Septa, her blue eyes averting back to her needlework. Septa Mordane briskly walked over, inspecting Sansa and Jeyne's work briefly, praising them until Arya found herself growing sick until the Septa began to inspect her work. Arya held it out with a huff and the Septa snatched it out of her hands and tsked, shaking her head.

"Arya Stark! This will not do at all! Look at these lines," The Septa tutted, shaking her head and held it out to her. Arya ripped it from the Septa's hands with narrowed eyes, ignoring Septa Mordane's shrill complaints about her needlework and how she was failing at being a Lady, which elicited chuckles from the girls beside her. "Those lines are crooked. You must try harder and most importantly, _listen_. How will you get anywhere in life if you do not listen?"

 _I don't care,_ Arya thinks.

Arya decided then and there that she had enough of being humiliated and threw her needlework to the ground and stood abruptly from her wooden stool, knocking it over which silenced both the Septa that presided over them along with the laughing girls. She brushed off her horrible blue dress she wore and began to walk away, her hands clenched into fists. Arya ignored the stares of shock or in the case of her sister, embarrassment as she walked away and opened the door wide.

"Lady Arya, where do you think you are going?" Septa Mordane demanded and hurried after her.

"I'm going to forge a sword," Arya answered with a careless look, enjoying the shocked looks she got. "I do have the hands of a blacksmith. And I am _not_ a Lady!"

Arya turned slightly, bowing politely to Myrcella before she turned and stalked down the hall, her walk quickly turned into a run when she heard the protesting Septa Mordane chase after her. Though the woman gave up the chase after Arya jumped down the small flight of stairs. In truth, she was heading for the armoury and the yard, where she knew her brothers and the Princes would be today. _Sparring,_ she thought with excitement and she hoped that Princess Boudicca was with them. Arya was eager to watch the Princess fight her brothers. She recalled the face her brother made that day they arrived with a laugh as she made her way to the yard.

Arya shortly arrived after running from the castle and looked on with a large grin on her face as she saw her older brother, Robb sparing with Prince Joffrey. As she looked on more, watching them with their wooden swords, she would most likely call him pathetic Joffrey rather than Prince. It became clear to her that he had no idea how to wield a sword to save his life. After Robb landed the final blow to Joffrey's wild and brutish swings, Joffrey screamed in frustration, his face reddened and he forfeited the match, throwing the wooden sword to the ground in anger. Her eyes flickered towards the dark haired woman, who was stalking towards them and pushed Joffrey behind her.

"It is alright, brother. Don't worry, Joffrey. I will protect _your_ honour," Boudicca said to her brother but Joffrey merely scoffed.

Arya laughed as Joffrey stormed off slightly to the side in a huff but she merely snorted, rolling her eyes before she looked on intently as Boudicca offered to fight Robb. He seemed taken aback and started to stammer, stuttering over his words as he protested. _A trout_ , Arya thinks to herself as she takes in her brother's hair that is red under the dull sun. She had already taken a liking to the eldest child of Robert. The older girl was fiercer than Sansa and she was about as lady-like as she was. That is not what initially drew her to Boudicca, it was her appearance.

Like her, Boudicca did not share the appearance of her siblings, all of whom took after their mother and inherited the Lannister traits with their hair of gold and green eyes. The Princess took most if not all of her looks from King Robert, except her eyes but even then Robert and Boudicca shared a similar stormy gaze. This made Arya relate to her in a way. _I look like my father as does she,_ Arya thinks.

"Come on, Robb!" Bran cheered, hollering at his brother.

"She's just a girl!" Theon leered. Arya screwed up her nose and looked at him with a glare.

"Humiliate him, Boudicca!" Arya shouted finding herself cheering and the woman turned around, shocked but a grin spread across her face. "You can do it!"

The spar had begun and it was also clear to see where all the talent in swordplay befell to. It was not Joffrey but rather Boudicca. She was well trained and it was clear to see that she had, had years of practice which made her envious. The wolf and the warrior exchanged one hit after another until finally, Boudicca struck Robb's sword hand when he was distracted with a playful jab. Robb hissed, dropping his sword and he rubbed his wrist just as his sword fell from his hand.

Arya looked on worriedly as Boudicca was declared a winner but what happened next surprised her. She thought Robb was hurt but when Boudicca twirled her sword he gripped her arm, spun her around and dipped her down. It was almost as if they were dancing. They both laughed loudly and she watched as Boudicca patted his back as he held her. _They certainly got friendly,_ Arya comments to herself.

"My dear brother, would you care for another round?" Boudicca asked, a teasing smile on her face as she turned to Joffrey. "I wouldn't worry, I'm sure Bran will go easy on you. Won't you, Bran?"

"This is a game for _children_ ," Joffrey sneered, ignoring the laughter from Bran as Arya edged closer eager to meet Boudicca. Boudicca was released from Robb's hold and looked on Joffrey with a screwed up face. "Come, dear sister. Let us leave, I have grown tired of the wolves with their sticks. Their presence is annoying me, sister. I rightfully won. I want a rematch but I do not want to use a stick."

"If I recall I don't think you did, unless storming off counts as winning?" Robb chuckled loosely. She saw his face light up when the green eyed woman laughed loudly at the remark but Joffrey's face darkened.

"What do you suggest then Prince Joffrey?" The Master at Arms, Rodrik Cassel asked with a grey arched eyebrow.

"I want live steel," Joffrey replied with his head held high but Ser Rodrik shook his head.

"I cannot let you, I'm afraid. It is out of the question, live steel is too dangerous, my Prince," Ser Rodrik informed him firmly, eyeing the unpredictable blond boy carefully. "You may, however, practice archery if you so wish?"

"Sister," Joffrey began with a sneer on his face and made a gesture for his sister to follow him. "Do not bother nor waste your time with these Northerners. They are nothing but our lowly servants, unworthy of our time. Let them play with their toy swords, I'm bored."

"Little shit," Jon whispered to her.

She looked up towards the voice and in surprise found Jon standing next to her, with a heavy frown set on his face. Arya's face reddened in anger as the Lannister guards were smirking and shared a smug glance with each, they seemed to encourage the Prince while she noticed the Baratheon guards raise their brows, eyeing the Prince when she heard the disrespect towards her and her family. Since he arrived, she had hated him with his smug grin and evil eyes. He looked more like a Princess than a Prince, according to Jon.

 _He ought to be slapped for that,_ Arya thought and her grey eyes narrowed in anger. If she could, she would stab him with her butter knife at sup and be done with it. She prayed to all the Gods that she did not have to sit anywhere near him at the feast held in the Great Hall tonight. Her brows raised when Boudicca clamped her hand on Joffrey's shoulder, turning to face her brothers and gave them a charismatic smile, the same smile that the King gave her father.

"Now, _dear little brother,_ " Boudicca said. The way she spoke 'dear little brother' was taunting and she liked it, she tasted the words on her tongue and listened on in interest. The smile that Boudicca bore was false and she noticed the similarities between her and the Queen then. They share the same false, serpent-like smile. "We are their guests. We are in the _North_ , not in the _South_. This is their domain, not ours. You should respect your betters and of course show them the same common courtesy that they are showing you, after all, you will be King one day. Need I remind you what happens to disrespectful Princes? If you do not make a good impression now, you _never_ will. If Ser Rodrik does not desire for you to use live steel, then that is his decision, not yours. You may be the Crown Prince but you are no King. Take up his archery offer, a bow and arrow are much better than a _crossbow_. Though…if you do not want to do that, then it might be in your best interests to speak with our sister and Lady Sansa, they would be happy to show you needlework instead of swordplay. Or perhaps you may want to muck out the stables, learn some humility. I do not think that swordplay is exactly your _forte_ , though who am I to judge? They are both important life skills."

Her brothers including herself started to roar their approvals with laughter and cheers, Arya made sure to laugh extra loud so that the entirety of Winterfell and perhaps the North could hear the humiliation of Joffrey. The laughter of the Kingsguard fell then. She noticed that Joffrey was now seething with anger, he pointed a stubby, short finger at her and took a few large and stumbling steps back. She looked on in anticipation, waiting for him to trip over his feet and fall in the mud. Arya looked on eagerly as he tripped over his ankles but unfortunately he didn't fall.

"I-I'm telling mother!" He snarled before he stalked off indoors. Boudicca merely shrugged with an impassiveness on her face as she stared on at Joffrey's retreating figure, once he disappeared from their sight she turned back to face Robb with a smile on her face.

"Ignore my _little_ brother," Boudicca drawled as she bent down and handed him his sword. "Would you care for-"

"Boudicca!" Tommen cried out, interrupting her abruptly. All heads snapped to towards the panting and heavily padded boy that seemed to waddle his way for her. "'Cella is asking for you!"

"Coming, Tommen!" Boudicca called after him before she turned to Robb. "Another time? Save me a dance, will you?"

"Of course," Robb responded, a small smile on his face as his eyes lingered on her retreating finger. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

* * *

Boudicca Baratheon

 _I quite like him,_ Boudicca remarked to herself with a smirk as she glanced every so often out of the window as Robb Stark continued to spar with that Kraken, Theon Greyjoy and then at times, Jon Snow. She looked on with a raised eyebrow as they fought. Jon was clearly superior to both her, Robb and the Kraken which was impressive.

Boudicca had enjoyed sparring with him and she hoped that later they would get to know each other more when they danced and she wondered if he held the same humour as she did. She was no idiot and knew that her father was shoving them together, it was obvious. Too obvious. A soft song passed through her thoughts and she turned to see Myrcella humming softly.

Her sister had requested her shortly after she finished her lesson as their mother wanted them prepared for the feast, even though it was a few hours away. Boudicca was sat by the window, braiding her hair absentmindedly as she looked on as the seamstress worked on Myrcella's clothing. The old woman had promised their mother that their dresses would give them warmth. Her green eyes were fixated on her sister's crimson dress but her eyes lingered on the chest of the dress which was dangerously low and she turned to the seamstress, Helna. Joffrey's eyes always lingered far too long on both she and Myrcella for her liking.

"Could you add something to the neck?" Boudicca asked awkwardly, cupping both hands in front of her chest. "It doesn't look secure."

Helna laughed loudly before she moved towards the trunks in the chambers that held various fabrics and pulled out some furs. She took her needle and black thread from the vanity table and quickly stitched the fur near the neck of the dress, creating a fur collar. She watched in interest as the blue eyed woman cut the fur in half and then stitched the end to the other side of it. Helna tied it and then stitched the two pieces of fur together at the back of Myrcella's neck and Boudicca gave an approving nod. _Beautiful._

"You look _beautiful_ , Myrcella," Boudicca complimented softly as Myrcella began to go back to her book, a shy smile on her face.

Boudicca glanced around her chambers but her eyes looked over at the trunks but something on the table covered in a large cloth had caught her attention in particular. She stood, her hands dropping from her dark locks, having plaited her hair in various parts and approached Helna, who looked on at the cloth in confliction.

"Helna," Boudicca addressed with a nod

"Yes, Princess?" Helna asked, turning to face her as she packed away her needle and threads.

"What is this for?" Boudicca asked as she edged towards the table. Helna threw her head back, laughing with a giddiness that brought a smile to her face.

"Underneath the cloth is your dress for the feast of course," Helna replied as she took away the cloth and held up the dress as Boudicca slowly approached. "Your mother had brought it from King's Landing and asked me to alter it. I wished to gift you with it later but it seems your curious mind has caught me out, Princess. Your Majesty wanted the clothing of her children to be warm, of course."

"I rarely feel the cold, Helna…" Boudicca trailed off, as she pulled away the cloth to reveal a sleek black dress that was entirely Northern, with fur and leather adorning it. "Though, you are a talented woman. It is a beautiful garment. The Southern seamstresses would envy you."

"Would you mind if I take that riding gear, please?" Myrcella asked politely.

Boudicca looked down at her sister with a raised eyebrow as Helna nodded enthusiastically, handing her the boiled leathers, the belt and the heavy, grey fur cloak. _You confuse me so, Myrcella,_ Boudicca thinks but nevertheless looked on her with a fondness. Helna bowed to them and then briskly left the room, to no doubt gather more materials.

"Why do you need the riding clothes, Myrcella?" Boudicca inquired. Myrcella looked up at her, gifting her a smile as she blushed and her innocent and gentle green eyes gleamed brightly. "Is that not for the Stark boys?"

"I thought Joffrey would like a riding outfit-" Myrcella explained. Boudicca's smile faltered then but she reluctantly nodded towards her sister. "We have been given Northern dresses and Tommen has been gifted a cloak from Bran. I thought it would only seem fair to gift Joffrey something too. It might make him more at ease, knowing that he is welcomed like we are. Do you think he will like it?"

"Perhaps…" Boudicca remarked but she eyed her sister intensely. _No. No, he would not._

* * *

An hour or so had passed since then, she had ignored the dress that lay carelessly on her bed and began to search frantically through her large trunk for her riding gear. Boudicca had been eager to hunt just before the feast as she wanted to explore the new found land alone. She reached in and grasped the steel sword that her father had gifted her for her last name day. _For your first born son,_ he had told her but she shrugged him off and inspected the blade with a fondness. _No. They will never call me mother or wife. For I shall be the one to wield this sword._

Boudicca looked up with wide eyes as she heard all too familiar sharp cries and stood up, placing her sword back into her trunk and walked briskly across the room, letting her chamber door swing open only to see Joffrey dragging Myrcella by the hair into his chambers. Her eyes were ablaze as she immediately followed after him, charging into his chambers like a bull. She opened the door, swinging it open and had caught onto their conversation.

" _I will be King!_ " Joffrey spat.

Boudicca looked on with enraged eyes, her heart thundering in both her chest and ears as she saw Joffrey on top of her younger sister with a belt raised and she immediately recognised it, it was the exact same belt from the riding gear but that meant little to her now, all she cared for was that he was about to hurt her little sister. She stormed over and grasped the belt, wrapping it around her wrist and pulled him by his hair, dragging him screaming to his feet before throwing him harshly to the ground. Myrcella scrambled to her side, grasping onto her thigh as she sobbed harshly. Boudicca placed a hand on Myrcella's head, threading her fingers through her long, blonde ringlets and glared down at Joffrey.

"I will be King soon, how dare you lay a hand on me, you ungrateful wench!" Joffrey sneered. He rose to his feet and walked quickly towards her with a raised hand, he made a pathetic attempt to hit her but she caught his wrist and bent it back. Boudicca watched as the pain made its way onto his wrathful features.

"You are no _King,_ " Boudicca snarled and he took a step back, once she let go of his wrist and eyed her with fear and hate in his eyes. "A true King would never lay a hand to his family, his sister no less. The next time you raise a hand to me, I will break all of your fingers, you insolent _boy_! Now, what is going on here? And if you dare raise your voice to me again, I will pull out your teeth."

"S-She approaches _me_ and tries to order me into dressing like one of those _Northerners_!" Joffrey hissed, clenching his jaw and pointed sharply towards Myrcella while he breathed raggedly. Boudicca looked down towards Myrcella, who frantically shook her head and looked up at her timidly, tears sliding down her rose cheeks. While her brother found it easy to breathe, Boudicca found it difficult to regain her breath with her tightening chest and the lump in her throat, she was too furious to even think of breathing."I am the Crown Prince. And she, _she_ dares to order me about!"

"I-I was g-going to give him t-the riding outfit," Myrcella hiccuped but their brother scoffed, dragging his eyes.

"And then you will want me to ride and talk like a Northern barbarian too," Joffrey seethed, and Boudicca scoffed.

"You are not worthy of the Stark's," Boudicca retorted, unable to stop herself.

"You think I care for you or the Stark's? I have overheard father, you will soon enough become a wolf's bitch!" Joffrey sneered at her, his eyes narrowing.

"As will you," Boudicca snarls.

"When I am the King, I will rain the hells upon the North and will kill your wolf of a husband along with any whelp that you will come to have," Joffrey threatened. "Each time you grow round with child, I will pin you down and cut each babe from your belly and will make the whole Northern Lords and Ladies watch!"

"I am Boudicca of the House Baratheon, I am the Princess of Westeros and the eldest daughter of Robert Baratheon! The Demon of the Trident!" Boudicca breathed heavily, grasping at his tunic and shoved him backwards with a fierceness so that he stumbled away from them. He trips and ungracefully fell and she watched impassively as his face collided with the table. She looked down at him with a burning rage. "I am the Bringer of Storms! If you dare threaten Myrcella, Tommen or me again…I will rain hell down upon you! If you ever raise a hand to Myrcella or Tommen again… _I will end you_."

"I'm telling mother!" Joffrey screeched and looked up at her, holding his bloody nose as he scrambled to his feet and ran off. " _Do not threaten me_!"

"It was not a _threat_ , dear brother," Boudicca whispered as she knelt by Myrcella and wrapped her arms around the smaller girl, holding her in a tight embrace and rocked her back and forth, shushing her hysterically sobs as she looked at the melting candle. She watched the candlelight flicker but not even that could describe the fury she felt at that very moment for her brother. In fact, she felt as if she could be capable of killing him. "It was a _promise._ "

* * *

 _Six Years Earlier_

 _King's Landing_

It was after sup and Boudicca was making her way up the marble steps towards her chambers, she made her way briefly passed the servants that were retiring for the night before she heard crying emitting from Tommen's chambers causing her to still. She slowly made her way towards the door to her brother's chambers and noticed it was not fully closed, allowing her to see a huddled boy nearby his bed, weeping.

Boudicca opened the door wider and took in her brother's state with a frown, he was howling, his entire body shaking harshly, so harshly she thought he was taking a fit. His face was a plum colour from the effort of crying and fat tears fell from his bloodshot and vivid green eyes. She opened the door fully before walking into his chambers, making her way towards him and crouched down beside him, eyeing him with care.

"Tommen," Boudicca began warily. "What happened?"

"F-Fauna," Tommen wailed.

 _The fawn_ , Boudicca thought with dread and fury as she noticed that the fawn that became Tommen's companion was not present in his chambers with him like the speckled creature usually was. Her bottom lip trembled and she did not know if she should cry or if she should scream. _Where's the damned fawn?_ Boudicca thinks to herself and immediately pulls her little brother onto her lap and wraps her arms around him.

"It's alright, Tommen," Boudicca hushed and lay her chin on his head. "I'll find her. I promise."

"J-Joffrey…" Her brother wept. "H-He told me…he told me h-he would skin her."

Boudicca comforted her brother for a few moments, humming the Song of the Seven until he had fallen asleep from the exhaustion of crying and also from his body shaking to such a harsh extent. She sighed and hoisted him up and walked towards his bed, gently laying him down in the furs. She wiped the remaining tears gathered at the corners of his eyes away and bent down, pressing a kiss to his forehead before leaving his chambers, shutting the door over which uncased Tommen's chambers into a gentle darkness.

Boudicca made her way for Joffrey's chambers, a dark intent in her mind when she crept towards her brother's chambers and snuck in. _Like a shadow,_ Boudicca thought impassively. It did not take her long to come across Joffrey, he was standing on his balcony staring out over King's Landing. Her green eyes narrowed and she slowly approached Joffrey, emerging from the silk curtains with her hands clasped behind her back.

"I suppose you thought it was _funny_ ," Boudicca muses quietly.

He stilled before turning to face her sharply, her eyes trailed over his red and gold clothing and noticed that not even the red could cover the crimson blood he was covered in. Boudicca looked him up and down in disdain before she let her arms fall to her sides and she prowled closer towards him, eyeing him with utter loathing for the pain their brother would no doubt be in for days and of course, for the poor fawn. _She was a gentle beast,_ Boudicca thought and sneered at Joffrey.

"It was. The beast meant nothing to me," Joffrey leered before turning back to look down on the city.

"It fucking meant something to Tommen," Boudicca seethed softly and began to breathe hard. " _You little bastard_."

Joffrey began to laugh cruelly and that is when she snapped, letting out a roar and charged at him, wrapping her arm around his neck and began to choke him as she pushed him up against the balcony, that he was leaning over it. Boudicca found herself uncaring for her name, for the fact that he was the Crown Prince and there would no doubt be consequences for her actions...all she cared for was her heartbroken brother and frightened sister. At that moment, she could kill him and would not feel anything afterwards. Boudicca would not mourn him, she would mourn with Tommen for Fauna but not for their brother.

"G-Get off!" Joffrey hissed, struggling against her and bit into her arm but she merely held on tighter, uncaring for the pain. "Let go, y-you wild _beast_!"

"Apologise!" Boudicca shouted, shaking him violently as they fought each other.

"No!" He screamed, digging his teeth further into her arm.

She heard the door to his chambers open with a loud thud and heard various footsteps nearing them, an armoured arm wrapped around her waist and pried her away from Joffrey with a mere tug. Boudicca kicked and screamed, her eyes never leaving Joffrey as he collapsed to his knees, clutching his throat and wheezed out each breath he took. She looked up and noticed Ser Barristan was holding her tightly, dragging her off.

" _Calm_ ," Ser Barristan whispered in her ear but she shook her head.

"No!" She roared. "He is a little shite! I have had enough of him getting away with it without paying a price!"

" _Enough_!" A voice thundered and she stilled as the voice of her father shook the Keep. "In the name of your King, enough!"

Boudicca's entire body stilled against Ser Barristan and her downcast eyes slowly looked up to her father who held disappointment and fury in his eyes as he looked to Joffrey then immediately to her. King Robert shook his head, pointing a fat finger at her as a serious look made its way onto his face as he approached when Ser Barristan set her down.

"Boudicca," Her father began, his voice was low, lower than she has ever heard it. "That fury you possess, calm it. I will deal with Joffrey accordingly. Clegane, take my daughter back to her chambers and don't let anyone in or out. Selmy, go get the bloody Maester. Loch, go get Cersei. The damned woman will want to hear Joffrey's side of the story."

She looked up to see a tall, armour man with a horrific burn on the side of his face. Her angered eyes widened when he looked down at her unimpressed and hoisted her into his arms, despite her struggling and squirming against his hold, the Hound made a short walk towards her chambers and opened the door with a kick of his foot. He marched over to her bed and threw her down carelessly on it. She grunted before scrambling back up, they stared at each other in silence before he grunted.

"You're meant to protect Princes," Boudicca pointed out in disdain. "You aren't very good at it."

"I protect Princes," The Hound responded gruffly as he left her chambers. "I don't protect little pricks."

* * *

Author's Note: Hi, hopefully you like Chapter's Three and Four. I'd like to thank all of you who have made this story one of your favourites, followed this story and of course, a special thanks to everyone that has reviewed. If you have any questions, feel free to ask and let me know what you think!

 _Reviews-_

mpowers045: Thank you! The reason I named her Boudicca is a big hint to what will happen in the story, also I love history and I had this great admiration for Boudica (or Boadicea) when we learned about her.

iitrnr: Thank you!

Boramir: Thank you, hopefully you like these chapters!

Saint River: Thank you for reviewing! This will be a Baratheon Princess but there will be a twist to it, though the title gives it away. I loved learning about Boudica and her struggle against the Roman Empire, I will actually be adding some elements of the history involving Boudica into the story, she will eventually evolve into a ruthless character but I hope I am making her character a wholesome one. I'm glad you liked the alteration on Maggy the Frog's prophecy, I had to think on how I could go about it and stick to Cersei's prophecy. As for the Kinslayer part, Cersei meant Tyrion because she does fully blame him for their mother's death and considers him that.

jean d'arc: Thank you! A lot of canonical events will change especially involving some major character's story lines but I will be including a lot of what happens in the books into this story as well, so some characters that haven't appeared or scenes that haven't appeared in the show will appear in this story.

Guest 1: You will definitely be seeing Boudicca laying down the law and destroying people. Boudicca will be a character that has both a bark and a bite, she doesn't make idle threats. I'm glad you can see her actually doing it in further chapter's she eventually will. It was tragic and awful what happened to the real Boudica and awful and tragic things will happen to Boudicca as well, not necessarily the same as to what happened in history.

Guest 2: I know a lot of them are paired with Robb but this will rarely focus on it and more on how Boudicca eventually comes into her role as both a Queen and a warrior. Though, the relationship between them won't last for long.

celticank: Thank you, I hope you like these chapters!

RHatch89: Thank you!

Pyromania101: Thank you, hopefully I will bring it out for and for everyone else that is reading this story. I loved learning about Boudica though it was awful hearing what they did to her in the beginning shortly after her husband Prasutagus died, to her daughters especially when they forced her to watch. I would never see the Romans side of the story, to be honest they deserved what they got after what they did to her. It was tragic end to Boudica and I will be adding in some elements of history into the story and will give parallels.


	5. Chapter Four

_Winterfell_

Boudicca Baratheon

Boudicca sighed and aggressively stuck the needle into the fabric, in and out, out and in, imagining it was Joffrey's smug face. She could feel the cold on her skin, despite sitting next to the open flame of the fire pit. She put down the threading needle and the lay the dress that she had been miserably working on, trying to sew the torn holes and adjusted herself on the uncomfortable wooden stool. Ever since Joffrey had told their mother, she had been confined to the castle and was trapped in needlework with the rest of the Ladies. While she placed her sewing down, her green eyes flickered towards the youngest Stark daughter, Arya, who was glaring at the giggling Sansa, the eldest Stark girl. Boudicca looked on in amusement, instantly reminded of herself and Joffrey, especially after they had a spat.

Boudicca chuckled lightly to herself but what drew her attention was the laughs that sounded outside along with a gentle thud. It kept catching her attention and each time it did, she managed to prick her finger with the long needle. She placed down her things on her seat and snuck over to the wild wolf girl while the Septa had her back turned to them, busy complimenting Myrcella.

"You look like you're having fun," Boudicca whispered sarcastically to her.

Arya spun around on her stool and gave her a wide grin. For some reason unknown to her, the Stark girl had taken a liking to her over the past day or so, since she had arrived at Winterfell. Arya had followed her here and there, asking her questions about King's Landing and especially about how she managed to get her father to allow her to practice with a sword. If she were honest, she liked the company of the Stark girl and much preferred it to the rest of them. They both shared a similar loathing for Joffrey and a shared hatred for being confined to their gender. Arya for being a 'Lady' or in her case, a 'Princess'.

"I hate sewing," Arya replied and look to her grimly. "Sansa is much better at it."

"I'm not very good at it either. I much prefer a sword over needles," Boudicca tells her and gave her an encouraging smile with a soft shrug. Arya perked up at the mentioning of it and she extended her hand out to the young girl. "How about we go see what they are laughing at, eh?"

"I thought you were confined to the castle?" Arya inquired.

"Has that ever stopped you?" Boudicca retorted.

Boudicca waited for the right moment and with that, Arya and herself snuck out of the chambers and ran down the flight of stairs until they found themselves outside in the cold air of Winterfell. Once the two of them were outside, she spotted the Stark sons and her younger brother, Tommen. She watched as Tommen and Bran shakily tried to aim their arrows towards the targets. Her green eyes averted to the various arrows stuck in different things and some arrows were scattered on the ground and she smiled slightly at her brother who aimed and fired, before turning to face Bran.

"They're shooting arrows," Boudicca noted as she looked over at the all too familiar weaponry and stance.

"They've been teaching Bran for a while now-" Arya began as Bran aimed and fired but failed to shoot at the target. Boudicca sees her brother's along with Bran's face redden as more laughter rang out from Robb, the Kraken and Jon Snow . "He's always bad at it."

"Bad teachers blame their students," Boudicca said and nudged her with a playfulness. "I reckon you'd do better. Far better than they can."

"Of course, I can," Arya stated proudly, before glancing at the target. "I could make that target."

"Really?" Boudicca challenged as she pointed to the lone bows and quiver of arrows that were cast aside. "Let's see then."

"I've done it before, I made Bran upset," Arya said and looked up at her as she did.

"And I've made Joffrey upset hundreds of times," She pointed out to the girl, who grinned. "That has never stopped me."

She and Arya shared smiles. The girl, wild as a wolf reminded her of herself, especially at that age. Though, Boudicca must admit she was a bit more violent than she was. Arya approached the bow and picked it up along with a single arrow and with a quick and agile ease, she took her stance, aimed and fired. _Arya is made to fire a bow,_ Boudicca thought as the arrow hit the target and the yard fell into a stunned silence. All of the Stark boys along with her younger brother turned to see who fired the arrow. Boudicca laughed loudly as Arya waved to them before Tommen and Bran gave chase to her.

Boudicca looked on watching them play a game and was surprised that her brother, a boy who normally kept to himself, was playing along with the young Stark children. _The North suits him,_ Boudicca thinks to herself. Her eyes trail back to the targets only to make eye contact with the eldest trueborn Stark son. Robb. Her green eyes bore into his blue and she found herself unable to look away but a grin eventually spread across her face. She gave a stumbling and mocking bow before she turned and walked away, shaking off the strange need to look back at him.

* * *

"Ah, dear girl! I take it you escaped from your tower? I knew it, no one can capture a Baratheon!" Her father boomed, looking up from his goblet of wine as he sat in the courtyard. He normally was sat in the Great Hall but the feast was getting prepared. Boudicca knew it was better that for her and her father's sake that he was outside and not gorging himself on the food before they could even sit down to eat. "You're late!"

"I got here as soon as I could," Boudicca defended as a grin stretched across her face.

"That's shite you're talking, daughter," Her father retorted before downing his wine. "You were watching the Stark boy, weren't you?"

"I w-wasn't," She stammered and eyed him before she scoffed, feeling her cheeks heat up. "Whatever you are in-"

"Worry not, girl. It's the wolfish appearance," King Robert said with a loud chuckle. "I've seen him look at you, watching you like prey. You have no clue because you do not speak to him. I wish you would. Imagine that, House Stark and House Baratheon finally united. Like I have always dreamed of."

"I am no prey," Boudicca retorted fiercely, folding her arms across her chest as he snorted into his wine. "I am a hunter."

"Look. Your prey is approaching, my girl," He said and her head whipped round.

 _Seven Hells,_ Boudicca thought. Her father did not jest like she initially thought to catch her out. Robb Stark was making his way towards them with his small pup, Grey Wind bounding and stumbling at his side. Robert continued to let out loud chuckles but back away, shouting for 'more wine' but she knew it was to give them privacy. Boudicca brushed off her dress and pushed back the fur on her cloak, she and Robb shared a smile as he approached.

"Princess Boudicca," He addressed and she fidgeted slightly. "I trust you are finding Winterfell pleasant?"

" _Princess? Pleasant?_ What's with the pleasantries? I thought we knew each other well enough by now, surely?" Boudicca pointed out with a teasing smile as she arched a brow. "What brings you here, Lord Stark?"

"Call me Robb," Robb pressed on and she gave him a slanted smile. "My sister, Arya, she speaks very highly of you. Boudicca is a common name on her lips."

"I can only hope I am a worthy person for her to look up to," Boudicca chuckled before she looked on with a smirk. "I hope you save me a dance."

"Our mothers are watching us," Robb murmured and she quirked an eyebrow, following his eyes to a nearby balcony and she caught the piercing green eyes of her mother and the stern blue eyes of his. "Our parents are adamant that we spend time together."

"Marriage," Boudicca replied, catching on immediately. "My father sees me as himself, and that must mean he sees you as Lyanna. That didn't exactly end well, did it? Do I have to worry about my betrothed running off with a dragon?"

"All he wants to do is sell you and your siblings off to the highest bidder," Robb said sharply causing her to look at him with widening eyes. His tone seemed different, when he spoke about her and her siblings, he seemed angry. Her green eyes met his blue and in turn, his own eyes widened significantly. "I-I'm sorry…I spoke out of-"

"You didn't speak out of turn, you spoke the truth," She bit stiffly. "And one day that might get you killed. Do you not like the idea of marriages, then?"

" _I do_ ," Robb sighed and she could hear the longing in his voice. "I really do. Just…I feel a person should not be obligated to that decision, that it should not be their duty to marry just because their parents deem it wise or a beneficial match. Or to be sold to the highest bidder. Is it that wrong to just want to be with someone you truly wish to love forever?"

"I too know how you feel," Boudicca said sincerely, not breaking her eye contact with him. She gave him a smile, biting her tongue softly and curtsied but ended up stumbling over her feet. "My Lord Robb Stark, it would be an utmost honour for you to accompany me to the feast, so that we, together, make fools out of ourselves when we try to dance. For I can only dance with swords."

"It would be an honour," Robb chuckles breathlessly, continuing their jest as he kissed the back of her hand. "My Princess."

* * *

The hall was a whirl of colour as people spun fast in circles, dancing and laughter filled the air along with upbeat music. Boudicca felt peaceful watching over the feast as she sipped her wine but her mood soured significantly when Joffrey stalked towards her and sat down next to her with a petulant glare and her brother was sipping from his wine goblet as well. A smirk etched its way onto her face as she noticed the malice look of hate he gave her and turned to face him with an arched brow.

"What is the matter, dearest brother?" Boudicca asked.

"I am the Crown Prince, I am to be King. Yet no one will dance with me," Joffrey complained and she downed her wine entirely this time. She gave him a sidelong glance and waited for the snide remark against her when she saw the nasty leer that spread across his face as he leant towards her. "Though, no one has asked you to dance, have they…I wonder why?"

"That's because _you_ are a little shite and we are both utterly terrifying on the eyes," She retorted. He gasped, looking at her in shock and she smiled triumphantly, raising her goblet to her lips with the twisted happiness that he took the bait. "Besides, it is _you_ that is meant to ask the girl to dance, you pathetic fool. So stop snivelling and ask someone."

"How dare you!" He spat and stood abruptly from his seat, knocking it to the floor and she watched as he stormed away without any care. Myrcella, who was sat beside her, tried to hide her giggles by covering her mouth with her pink gloved hands.

"You liked that one, eh?" Boudicca chuckled as she poured herself another goblet of wine. "I should write a book, 'a thousand ways to slap the Crown Prince in the face without actually slapping him'. Hm, think of all the gold that I would make selling it. Don't you think, Myrcella?"

"He's our brother," Myrcella informed her softly but her eyes widened and she nudged her quickly, giving her a sharp jab to the waist. "Lord Robb's coming over, Boudicca."

"Is he now? Perhaps he is coming over to ask you to dance. After all, you are much prettier than I," Boudicca said and pinched her cheek as a blush formed on her sister's face.

"Princess Myrcella," Robb addressed formally, giving the girl a small smile before his eyes landed on her. Boudicca turned to face him and stood up. "Boudicca."

"Lord Robb," Boudicca retorted, giving him a smile as he looked at her nervously, running a hand through his auburn curls. "Would you like to-"

"Boudicca!" A voice called, arms wrapped around her waist and clung on tightly. She turned to Arya, giving her a side hug.

"Hello, Arya!" She said kindly, "Are you enjoying the feast?"

"Go on, Robb. Ask her to dance!" Arya said, releasing her and looked up to her brother. "Don't be frightened, she'll look after you."

"Cheek," Robb scoffed but nevertheless his smile widened even further. They took to the floor with dancers but Arya had followed her and Robb as he held out his hand to her, her eyes trailed down to it and she saw his hand was shaking severely. Arya noticed this and let out a loud laugh but Robb looked down at her, playfully glaring at his sister. "Off with you. Go back to the table with the other children, or better yet ask Prince Tommen to dance, _Lady Stark_."

"I'm not a Lady!" Arya huffed, her mouth dropping open as the small, angry girl stormed back to the table.

"May I have this dance?" He asked and she chuckled lightly.

"Why of course-" Boudicca began but she stilled when she felt something wet her cheek.

Boudicca lifted her fingers and wiped the substance from her face and looked down at it, rubbing it between her fingers and noticed it was mashed potatoes. She immediately fell into a fit of loud laughter and started to wipe away the rest of the food that had hit her cheek and then looked up at Robb as more food was pelted their way. Boudicca could hear Lady Sansa's affronted screams to her sister but all she could do was laugh harder, especially when Robb turned to his sister, irritated but she could see the laughter in his eyes. They spotted Arya, this time, aiming at Sansa, who screamed loudly when food was thrown at her. _Her scream could frighten an army,_ Boudicca thought.

" _Off to bed!_ " Robb exclaimed with a smile.

Robb walked up to the table Arya was sat at and hoisted her up from the table with a grunt, Boudicca followed after them, joining in with Arya's fit of laughter. Boudicca made note of every hall they walked into and every stair they climbed until they were at Arya's chambers and she looked on with a smile as Robb tucked his sister into bed, pulling up the furs. Robb muttered something to Arya and what the girl whispered back made him look on with wide eyes as he retreated from the girl's chambers. _The girl's traumatised him._

"Where are you taking me?" Boudicca inquired as she walked down the hall by his side.

Boudicca noticed that they were leaving the castle after they trailed down the second flight of stairs. She inhaled deeply, enjoying the cold and crisp air, letting it refresh her from the warmth of the Great Hall. Boudicca followed Robb and noticed that they were making their way to the stables when she heard the horses grow unsettled from inside the stables.

"Into the woods," Robb replied as they approached the entrance of the stables. "I heard you like to hunt."

"At night?" Boudicca mused and gave him a playful shove. "You Stark's do like living dangerously, don't you?"

"I like the night's sky," He said with a shrug and a grin.

Boudicca and the blue eyed Lord walked out of the stables and into the woods after they got Grey Wind out of the stables along with short swords from the armoury. The moon provided light to see the trees around them but it was not light enough for them to see the ground, the ground was harder to see. Boudicca was glad Robb was by her side, as she almost fell several times while walking through the dense woods, tripping over twigs and branches. Robb merely laughed each time she did and led her further into the woods, catching her every time she tripped. It was eerily beautiful being in the forest and away from the feast, which echoed in the distance.

"Look," Robb whispered and her eyes followed to where his finger was pointing to.

 _A deer._

A few feet away was a small deer grazing the ground, she lowered her sword and looked over to the deer in awe but as she was about to edge closer towards them, hands were placed around her hips and caused her to let out a startled cry. This made the deer look up and scurry off in fright and she turned, giving Robb, who was laughing hard a rough push.

"You bloody…bloody Stark!" Boudicca hissed, dropping her sword.

"You bloody…bloody Baratheon!" He mimicked as he continued to laugh before he recovered slightly. "Your stance was off."

Boudicca stilled, her mouth dropping open in shock and she took this as a challenge. She unclasped her cloak, shrugging it off and as it dropped to the floor, she picked up her sword and took her stance, pointing it towards him. Their eyes met as he finally stopped laughing and started to regain his breath but the grin he wore never left his face.

"It would be an offence for me to deny such a beautiful woman, her request," Robb responded and drew out his own sword.

Boudicca scoffed at his compliment and spun her sword as she took a few steps towards him. They began to circle each other, their eyes met and she smirked at him. He chuckled at her movement and with each step she took, he took a step closer. Robb hit his sword lightly against her own, she gripped her sword tighter and pushed him back.

"Your move," He spoke low and she tilted her head before she made her move.

Boudicca moved lightly on her feet and swung but he continued to block her angled hits with ease. She and Robb became entirely focused on their game as they moved constantly across the clearing in the woods but she began to grow agitated as she had not yet nicked him with her sword or disarmed him. The most irritating part of it all was that she had given Robb several opportunities to hit and disarm her but he chose not to, which made her want to win even more.

"You are fighting far too aggressively," Robb breathed as she leant in closer and pushed his sword away from her.

"I was taught by Ser Barristan Selmy, himself!" Boudicca spat, swinging her sword and their swords clashed. Small sparks were created from this, lighting up their faces briefly. "You dare question his teachings!"

"You are fighting too hard!" He said once again, though this time he laughed.

"You are fighting too weak!" She retorted, her eyes narrowing.

Boudicca dodged him once again but this time, he had caught her off balance, causing her to curse. He grabbed her sword arm and captured her, with a grunt, she was shoved up against a nearby tree with his sword her chin. Her eyes narrowed, her chest rising and falling harshly from the fight as he was merely a few centimetres away from her. His eyes were trained on her face, taking in her features and she took this as an opportunity, seizing the moment.

Boudicca captured his lips with her own, kissing him harshly. He let his eyes close as he grew deeper into the kiss but her eyes remained open and she watched as he lowered his sword. A smirk made its way onto her lips as the kiss deepened and she grasped his tunic, her hands firmly holding onto the fabric as she pulled him closer but as she did so, she pushed him to the ground and swung her sword. Robb's blue eyes widened in shock as she grinned madly down at him with her sword pointing to his chest.

"Desire-" She panted, wiping a bead of sweat from her brow as she dropped her sword. "A simple man's greatest weakness."

"You…You are very cunning," He said as he stared up at her.

"A man has said," Boudicca replied vaguely before she turned and walked away.

Boudicca made her way out of the woods, extending her hand out and let her left hand brush against the leaves of the trees. Her eyes flickered up to the moon that was above her and the stars that danced across the sky. Her other hand slowly trailed up to her lips and with two fingers, brushed her fingers against them softly and eyed the sky with a raised brow and a small smile appeared on her face before she entered the warmth of the castle.


	6. Chapter Five

_Winterfell_

Boudicca Baratheon

Boudicca was deep in thought as she clenched her sword, rubbing it up and down harshly with a cloth, that had unfortunately seen one too many battles. She looked down at the sharpness of the blade and noticed that if reflected the anger in her features. _I will not be condemned!_ Boudicca thought with a hiss as she cleaned her blade thoroughly. The union and marriage between her and Lord Robb Stark was announced by her father after they had broken their fast. Although it pleased her that it wasn't a cousin or Tyrell, or even the conniving Petyr Baelish, she still was not pleased. It was alright for Robb. He did not have to give up a name, a title and a home. Winterfell may be beautiful but King's Landing was her _home._ Winterfell could never be her home.

 _I will not become a placid, little Lady!_ Boudicca thinks to herself venomously and inspects the sharpness of her blade, making note to sharpen the blade later. As she was about to place the dirtied cloth on her blade to make a final swipe to clean it, a hand came in front of her face and covered her mouth, causing her to let out a startled scream.

Her green eyes widened and she let out a shriek of anger, though it was muffled behind the man's hand. Boudicca's heart and stomach filled with fire and her mind instantly focused on who it was. It was not Joffrey, she knew that for certain, he would get someone else to finish her off perhaps the Hound or even one of the slimy Kingsguard. Or perhaps it was that damned Theon Greyjoy, another slimy man she hated.

She dropped her sword and with two hands grasped the hand and bit into their hand, letting out a ferocious roar but the hand only pressed closer to her lips. Suddenly, she was pressed against a hard chest as she fell back against them. Boudicca raised her elbow and gave them a sharp jab causing them to grunt and when they let go, she dived for them, bringing them to the icy ground and straddled them with her dagger raised but before she could bring the dagger down, she faltered, seeing Robb grinning up at her.

"Bastard!" She snarled as she slapped him on the chest slightly and collapsed against him, lowering her dagger. "I could've killed you!"

"Sorry -" Robb said, grinning sheepishly. "Theon swore that it worked, I had to kiss you again."

"You call that a kiss, wolf?" Boudicca asked mockingly, peering down at him curiously and cocked her head to the side. "Is this what you Northerners call a kiss? I can't believe you would trust a Kraken. My handmaiden Tansy kissed me better than you did."

"Did you know wolves claim their mates?" Robb retorted and she sat back. "It's in our blood."

"But I am no wolf-" Boudicca whispered, leaning down. "I am a hunter. And hunters prey on wolves."

Boudicca felt strange in doing so, normally if she were to kiss a man or woman, it was done out of lust…a strange feeling pooled in her belly. They both leant forward, Robb leaning up as she leant down but before he could do or say anything, she pressed her lips to his cheek, giving him small, slow and soft kisses to his face. In doing so, his eyes fluttered shut and she began to inspect his features with each kiss. She pressed her lips on both sides of his face, his forehead, his nose and then at the corner of his lips. She had caught him and made him her prey. _Like a lion,_ Boudicca thought as she eventually ghosted her lips over his own.

 _My fawn,_ her mother's voice echoed in her mind as she pulled away hesitantly. _Love no man. Love no one but the children you birth. You are a warrior, my fawn. You must never be afraid of when it comes to the bedding ceremony. Make the beast bow to you. And only you. The best weapon is not your sword but is between your legs…and tears, of course._

 _Daughter,_ her father's voice crept up. _You are not an object. You are a Baratheon. You possess the fury we are known for. Never fall in love. It will only weaken you. I fought for Lyanna, yet I lost her anyway. The same will happen to you. Us Baratheon's have never known love. All our wives or husbands that we take end up dead, sooner or later._

 _Love is poisonous,_ their voices overlapped causing her to still entirely.

"We hardly know each other…but that doesn't mean I don't want to," Robb suggested, drawing her from the malicious thoughts and she looked down only to be met with Robb giving her an almost innocent and longing look, she watched it curiously as it stretched across his face. "We are to be married. You will be Lady Boudicca of Winterfell. I know you might not care but I have always wanted more than one pup."

Boudicca remained frozen and in doing so, he swiftly leant up and touched her lips with his own. His lips were warm, gently coaxing but she bit lightly into his tongue as a warning. She let out a small laugh that matched his own before she pounced on him again, they both tumbled until they were sitting upright and with that, she threaded her fingers and curled them around his auburn curls, gently tugging them and she began to enjoy this new found feeling that he bringing out within her.

Boudicca knew that he may have been one for falling in love at first sight, she was not. Though seeing the innocent look on his face when he pulled away and stared at her curiously, she would hate for anyone to take this look he held away from him. Robb was not a boy nor was he a man. He was on the cusp of adulthood like she was.

From her perspective, they were teasing each other, testing new found waters but unfortunately for him, he could not swim. He would only sink deeper, she knew that if she were to marry him like her father wants, and she would, it would be inevitable that she was going to get thrown to the wolves. At least he was a kind and just man. At least he was not like her brother. Or Uncle Jaime. _Like Eddard Stark in father's stories,_ Boudicca thought while she pulled away from him and sat up, their eyes nervously met when their gaze turned to the sword on the ground.

"Nice sword," Robb remarked and she nodded curtly. "It looks like my father's sword, what is it called?"

" _Called?_ My sword doesn't have a name," Boudicca replied and gave him a puzzled look.

"All swords must have a name," Robb stated as if it were fact.

"All arseholes have a name too," She retorted and Robb chuckled as he helped her stand just as she picked up her sword. "And there is too many of them in the world. Joffrey is one of them."

"Joffrey is your brother," Robb pointed out as she began walked away but she threw her head back, laughing as she walked through the yard.

"That makes him an even bigger arse," Boudicca laughed, sheathing her sword as she walked away, with a smile on her face.

* * *

Boudicca was abruptly interrupted from her storm dancing when she heard a loud, mournful howl. It was followed by a whine and then a soft whimper. Her eyebrows furrow in confusion as a cold wind picked up. She shivered, goose flesh appearing on her pale skin and her green eyes searched her surroundings carefully. There were no wolves to be seen and she shrugged it off and began to pick up her storm dance once more.

Boudicca spun her sword in a gentle sway with her body before she grew faster and faster with her swing until her sword cut through the air but she faltered once more when she heard a howl fill the chilling air again. Boudicca knew that she was not imagining it anymore. The sound kept repeating itself, so she sheathed her sword to her leather belt and began to walk towards the howling animal. _No animal makes a sound like that without a purpose._

After a short walk, partly confused and partly curious by her surroundings, she rounded near a castle corner. Her eyes immediately landed on a small direwolf pup and at first she thought it was Grey Wind with the light grey fur with brown and white hints in it but as she approached the small direwolf with wary eyes, she knew then it was the young Stark boy, Bran's direwolf by the wolf's yellow eyes. Soft whines were huffing from his mouth as he shifted back and forth, yellow eyes staring at her in pain. _Pain? Is the Stark boy in trouble?_

Boudicca walked closer towards the direwolf and as she grew closer, the wolf ran for her and began to run in circles around her. The direwolf kept tugging at her boot, pulling with all his might and barked at her. When she remained still, he began to bite harshly at her ankles and she was certain that one particular rough bite had pierced her skin. Boudicca sighed and began to follow him nonetheless despite the protests she made.

"I do not understand," Boudicca tells the direwolf as the pup looked up to the sky in pain and howled. "What's wrong?"

Boudicca knelt by him a moment later and stroked his fur calmly, checking for any injury that may have caused his sudden and frantic behaviour. She had not seen Bran since he had practised sword fighting with her youngest brother, Tommen, which resulted in the Stark boy's victory. She grew concerned, that had been hours earlier and she did not see him attend the feast at noon. Her dark curls bounced again as she shook her head, tilting her head in confusion before her eyes followed the yellow pair and looked up to the grey sky.

It had happened too fast for her to react, too fast that she could barely even comprehend. A shadowy form fell down from the broken tower in front. The sickening thud from the fall was followed by an eerie silence. No bird sang. No cloud moved. No wind picked up. The world was still. Boudicca felt her breath hitch and her heart stop momentarily as the small form hit the ground.

She screamed, screamed louder than she had ever screamed in her entire lifetime. There, barely six feet away from her was the body of Bran Stark; pale, small and frail lying on the snow sodden ground. Her legs quivered, her knees knocking together as she stood but fell when she took a step forward. Her eyes went wide as she stared down at the body in shock, she placed a hand over her mouth to muffle her screams.

Boudicca crawled frantically towards the boy's lifeless frame on her hands and knees. At first, she looked at the boy and so Tommen but as she grew closer he became Bran again. She had no room for tears as all she could do was stare on in a state of shock before she hesitantly reached out and finally touched his sickly pale, greying skin. And she retracted her hand quickly. He was _so_ cold. So, so cold that she took off her thick cloak and gently covered his body with it.

" _Help!"_ Boudicca thundered as she threw her head back and screamed. "Help!"

Boudicca looked back down and murmured his name several times, trying to stir and rouse the boy but as her trembling hand touched his cheek, feeling how cold he had gone, she was certain that he was dead. She shook her head in denial. Boudicca imagined the faces of Lord and Lady Stark, of the lady-like Sansa, of the boisterous Arya and of _Robb._ But she also imagined it being Tommen and began to lift him up and clutched him, gathering him in an embrace, watching his unmoving head loll limply down on her shoulder. Boudicca rose shakily from the ground, carrying the weight of both herself and the boy. She noticed his legs then and she knew. His legs were horribly bent and broken like the rest of his body. The wolf whined once more at her feet and she felt compelled to look up to the tower once more.

She _saw_.

Her laboured breath turned silent as she listened intently to a faint noise and as she stared at the window of the tower, she saw it. _A shadow._ It was quick, quick as the boy's fall but she saw it. It moved swiftly, as if in panic. Boudicca swallowed thickly, holding Bran close to her chest, concealing him from the icy weather with her cloak as the wolf howled yet again beneath her feet. _The boy wanted to be a knight,_ Boudicca thought angrily as any fear or panic she felt faded. She turned from the tower and looked to see the Kingsguard along with various men and women run towards her. _And that shadow took it from him._

* * *

Cersei Lannister

"What is there to worry about?" Jaime drawled as he sat idly on the edge of the bed while she attempted to drown her worries, paranoia and fear away with her sixth goblet of wine, yet she still did not find herself at ease. She stilled from her pacing and turned to face him. "We leave for King's Landing today, you worry too much."

"She saw us!" Cersei hissed, eyeing him with a glare. "She saw _you_! I know she did. And what of Tyrion? You heard what he said, they believe the boy will survive. What if he remembers? What if he tells them about _us_? You know what Boudicca is like, she has been acting strange ever since the boy's fall, you think I do not know my own daughter. She is like our father, always pressing and interfering and being her scrupulous self. Boudicca loathes you, Jaime, she will know it was you."

"Wishful thinking," He scoffs but she spun on her heel to face him fully, her face enraged.

 _Boudicca is my life and my death,_ Cersei thought on as she gnawed at the knuckle on her index finger, eyeing Jaime with anger every few passing moments as she began to pace. It has been a day since the boy had fallen and Winterfell descended into chaos. Her eyes darted about, eyeing every item in her chambers vigorously before taking another sip of her wine. Her stomach was in knots and even the sixth goblet of wine, would not calm her.

If the Stark boy lives and more importantly remembers what he saw when they were in the tower together, she and her brother along with her three cubs would be killed. But reassurance about her life set in, _Boudicca will easily forgive me. She is mine. I am her mother,_ Cersei thought and allowed her tense shoulders to relax ever so slightly. _They are her siblings, she is the first thing to ever love me so purely. She would never let her siblings or myself die, despite how Joff treats her. She loves us, as we love her._

"This is entirely your fault, you know," Cersei accused but he scoffed.

"My fault?" He inquired. "You insisted we sneak off to the tower. I pushed that boy from the ledge to protect _us_. To protect our children."

"And what if Boudicca finds out it was _us_?" She seethed.

Her piercing green eyes met his own as merely stood up to her question. Jaime walked over to her and wrapped an arm around her lithe waist and roughly pulled her towards his body. Cersei's breath hitched and she let her eyes flutter close, inhaling his scent but her eyes reopened, when his hand clamped onto her throat softly as he kissed the top of her ear, his breath was heard in her ear.

"Then I will slit her white throat," He murmured and slid a finger across her neck.

Cersei shoved him away fiercely and turned to him, her eyes ablaze as he hit the nearby table. She extended her arm and didn't care for the sting that she felt as her hand met his face and a sharp slap echoed in her chambers. She watched in anger as his head was thrown to the side, his blond hair flying across his face, covering his eyes from her sight. Before he turned back to face her, he slowly reached up and touched his bleeding lip.

"You touch her-" Cersei began. "And I will end _you_. No one touches _my_ children. No one."

"Boudicca is dangerous for us, Cersei," Jaime urged and reached over to touch but she pulled away. "If you love your children, if you love me...You will send her away, better yet, let her stay here. Let her marry into the wolves and we will hear no more of her. We can be together. You, Myrcella, Tommen and Joffrey. We can finally live in peace. We had rid ourselves of Jon Arryn, who is to say we cannot rid ourselves of Boudicca."

"Boudicca is _my_ daughter," She hissed and raised her hand to slap him once again but this time, he caught her wrist, pushing her shaking hand away. "She is _my_ daughter. Not Robert's. Not yours. _Mine_. And I will not let you nor any other man take her away from me. She's mine. She is my first born child, she is my lioness in doe's clothing. I will not throw her to a wolf pack. The only reason Robert wishes to marry her off to those barbarians is because he sees himself in her, that is what this comes down to. His own vanity and desire to be joined with the Stark's."

"What of her _marriage_?" Jaime pointed out. "She is to be married to Robb Stark. Robert announced it."

"Robb Stark? The boy means nothing to me. He won't take my daughter away from me," Cersei stated as she poured herself another goblet of wine. "Besides, Joff and Sansa are to be married. And Robert is easy to appease when he is drunk, I will persuade him to put the marriage on hold, for now. He can still get the union with the Stark's, just not with my daughter. No one will take my children away from me. They belong to King's Landing. To me."

"And what if he hits you? What then?" He demanded, his eyes narrowing.

"Simple," Cersei responds as a smirk stretches on her face when she raised the goblet to her lips. She takes a mouthful of wine before continuing, "I will present my bruises to Boudicca."

* * *

Boudicca Baratheon

Boudicca gave a sidelong glance to Sansa as she came up beside her and casually loops her arm through the girls. If she were honest, she liked all the Stark children. Though she liked the eldest Stark girl as her small lady-like habits and the innocence she held reminded her of her blonde haired sister, Myrcella. It has been a day since Bran's fall and today was the day they left for King's Landing. Boudicca had questioned her mother on her betrothal to Robb, her mother was vague with it but she said that she had sorted it. On closer glance and interpretation, her mother more likely exploited her father when he was at his weakest.

 _I am to be married after my nameday,_ Boudicca thought and recalled her mother's words regarding her future. She would leave for King's Landing to celebrate her nameday and to oversee the marriage and union of her brother, Joffrey and Sansa, who as of late was like a bird singing in her ear as they strolled along the yard, while the servants and stable hands prepared the carriages and horses.

"I can hardly believe it!" Sansa exclaimed, her tone bubbling with excitement. "I can't believe we are going to be sisters soon. I am to marry your brother and you are to marry mine. I will be the Queen of Westeros and you will be the Lady of Winterfell. Isn't it marvellous? I will become Sansa Baratheon and you, Boudicca Stark!"

Boudicca forced a smile as they continued to walk the grounds, she oversaw the preparations that were made for the two carriages and the forty or so horses. She slowly felt a protectiveness towards the auburn haired girl, who was filled with romantic notions, the girl reminded her so much of Myrcella that it terrified her. She too had all of these thoughts and feelings. These notions. Boudicca may have been a Princess but she was glad that she was too suspicious.

"My brother…Joffrey, he is not a kind boy," Boudicca said bluntly. Her words surprised Sansa, as the girl turned to face her and her eyebrows were raised high on her forehead. "He would not make a kind husband nor father."

"He is the Crown Prince-" Sansa began but Boudicca scoffed, rolling her eyes.

"And he would be your night terror," Boudicca interrupted and gave a terse laugh. "I am not so easily shocked and for that, I thank him. He is no true Prince. For better or in this case, lack of, he is cruel. Joffrey is a monster. Why would you wish to marry such a tyrant like my brother? You deserve far much better than him, my Lady. You deserve a kindly man who will treat you with the utmost respect. Joffrey's façade will soon crack. I can assure you, he is neither of those things."

"I will be Queen and everyone will love me," Sansa said dismissively. "I will marry Prince Joffrey and have his babies."

"And what if you do not bare him a son?" Boudicca asked abruptly. "What then?"

"I…I do not know. Joffrey says that he loves me, I am sure he will love me the same. It should not matter if I give him a boy or girl," Sansa said. Boudicca's brow arched softly, she kept her face impassive and listen to the obvious lies that were being fed to Sansa. "Her Majesty says I will be a kind and just Queen. And that the people will love me, Joffrey surely will too. He is like the Prince from my stories and that Prince, he will stay. I do not want to be some Lady of a castle, I want to be a Queen."

"If there ever comes a time-" Boudicca began as she slipped a horn that was attached to her waist into Sansa's hand and pulled her closer until the girl was tucked into her side. "That you are ever in need of me, sound this horn. And I will be there. I promise. When we reach King's Landing, you will not know what hit your pretty little face. King's Landing is the land of liars and we are all your betters when it comes to the gift of the false tongue. _Including_ Joffrey and my mother."

* * *

Author's Note: Hey guys, I hope you like these chapters. I'd like to thank all of your for putting this as one of your favourites, for following it and of course a massive thank you to everyone that has left a review. If you have any questions regarding anything, feel free to ask and I will happily answer any questions you might have. Let me know what you think and if you have any thoughts about Boudicca as a character!

Reviews-

RHatch89: I'm glad you do, hopefully you like these chapters!

Boramir: Thank you!

Saint River: Thanks for reviewing and hopefully you like the new chapters! Her relationship with Robb will not last long, though I agree with you. In the further chapters, she will overcome various challenges (and will face lots of battles and lots of deaths) to be shaped into the Warrior Queen Boudicca. There will be a little romance here and there, but it won't be major point in this story. I'm being careful about Boudicca becoming a Mary Sue, because I know some people associate a female oc who can wield a sword with a Mary Sue but she will have her wins and will have her equal amount of loses. I'm glad you think she is written in a believable way.

celticank: Thank you! The history to Boudicca is an awful one, horrific things happen to her because of the Romans invasion on Britain. A lot of people will be after her and will want her dead, there will be a wedding for Robb and Boudicca but it won't happen until later chapters.

Guest: That sounds like an amazing idea and you never know what could happen in the future chapters, there is always a possibility.

Lilac and Lilies: Thank you! I'm glad you like Boudicca and I'm relieved to hear that I haven't made her a Mary Sue. Boudicca doesn't have any of Cersei's looks except for the green eyes but even then their green eyes aren't the similar, Boudicca has Joanna's eyes. Boudicca is a Baratheon, through and through though there is a glimmer of Lannister that shines through every now and then.

Pyromania101: Thank you, I'm glad you liked this story. I am changing certain things here and there, adding more dialogue and more pov's than I did in the other version that I had written. Like with the prologue and chapter one, I added in pov's with Tyrion and Stannis.


	7. Chapter Six

_Ruby Ford_

Sansa Stark

It has been a moon's worth since they left Winterfell and as they neared King's Landing, her excitement to see new sights grew. Though wariness also wore on her as well especially when she recalled Boudicca's terrible words of warning. Sansa looked at the horn that was placed on the table next to her mirror and picked up, inspecting its features. It was beautifully crafted and she was sure when they reached the capitol, many Ladies and Lords will be wearing them too. How she longed to see the knights in their shining armour and golden cloaks, the Ladies in their Southern silken dresses and of course, the warmth and heat on her skin.

Sansa had also dreamt of herself as the future Queen of Westeros, it was a pleasant dream. Sansa dreamt that she was loved by the entirety of Westeros, and would stand beside Joffrey, as husband and wife, when he would be crowned King and would sit next to him in the grandest of dresses. They would rule over all and then she thought of the children they would have together. Sansa would have blonde haired, green eyed stags or perhaps they would be blue eyed, either or she would love them fiercely with all her heart and body.

 _Love no one but your children,_ Queen Cersei had told her.

Sansa placed the horn back down gently on the table and looked into the mirror, gazing at her giddy reflection while she brushed her hair and patted out the wrinkles on her blue gown. She had been invited to ride with Queen Cersei and her children, Princess Myrcella and Prince Tommen in the wheelhouse. And she wanted to look her utmost best like Cersei told her to. _Appearance is everything,_ the Queen had informed her. The Queen was preparing her for the role of Queen when Joffrey became King and she listened to every word Queen Cersei spoke. She wanted to be prepared and experienced. Sansa carefully got up and made the small journey to the royal tent, the grandest and highest of them all.

"Lady," Sansa called to her direwolf.

Sansa walked outside of her tent and her eyes landed on her grey direwolf, who watched her with yellow eyes. She smiles and unties the bound Lady and they began to walk towards the Queen's tent, who stalked in front of her, though she kept the rope tight in her grip in fear of Lady running off and frightening the people nearby. On her way towards the tent, Nymeria ran passed her shortly followed by her younger sister, Arya, and she inwardly rolled her eyes when she took in her sister's messy hair and dirt covered face and clothes. _She is no Lady_ , Sansa thinks to herself with disdain.

"Are you riding with us?" Sansa asked warily, eyeing her carefully.

"No. Why would I ride with _you_ and the Queen?" Arya snorts, screwing up her face. "I'm going to ride with Boudicca. Besides, I don't even like the Queen. She would not let me bring Nymeria, she says that the wheelhouse is no place for a wolf."

Sansa let out a relieved sigh, sucking in a small shuddering breath. According to the Queen, appearance _was_ everything and her appearance would be ruined if Arya had joined them. It would have done more bad than good. Arya was no Lady, despite how much Sansa desired for her sister to be. All her life, she had grown up with brothers and wanted a sister, a sister who was like her in every way, instead, she got a _wild_ sister. Arya was boisterous and was too crude to be in front of the Queen and her children. She almost died last week when Arya swore in front of the Queen. As Sansa turned to leave, she stilled when the curiosity got the best of her and turned fully to face her sister with a raised brow.

"What are you up to?" Sansa asked with furrowed brows. "You heard father. We are not to wander off. You will get us _both_ in trouble."

"Rubies. Mycah and I are going to look for rubies at the Ruby Ford," Arya informed her as if it were obvious.

 _That is certainly not what a true Lady would do,_ Sansa thinks. On their long, exciting journey to King's Landing, her sister had become the travelling companion of Boudicca. Often when Sansa was practising her needlework with Jeyne in their carriage, they saw Arya riding on the back of Boudicca's horse. It was a shocking sight to see. And while doing so, Arya and Boudicca had befriended many people of the lower class. Her sister and the wild woman had slowly become a thing to frown upon, not that anyone would dare say anything to the King or especially, the Queen.

They had befriended them. And out of them all, Mycah was Arya's favourite companion and friend. Mycah was the butcher's boy about ten and three years of age, though he was not very comely nor was he very bright. _He is nothing like Joffrey is,_ Sansa thinks with a small smile. _Joffrey is kind and handsome._ She held little to no care for Mycah but the mentioning of rubies had caught her interest and attention.

" _Rubies?_ " Sansa asked, raising her chin higher in question to it.

"Rhaegar's Rubies," Arya told her, rolling her eyes but nevertheless she continued to weave her tale. "King Robert Baratheon battled Prince Rhaegar Targaryen during the Battle of the Trident. Prince Rhaegar wore a breastplate covered in rubies that formed a dragon. It is said that during the fight that King Robert struck Rhaegar so hard that the rubies fell from the breastplate into the river, this is the exact spot where they fought. This is the battle that King Robert got his name. The Demon of the Trident."

"I wish you luck then," Sansa replied as Arya ran off, following after Nymeria.

Sansa continued to make her way towards the tent and pondered how she and her sister could be so different but then she let her thoughts drift to the Baratheon Princesses. Princess Boudicca and Princess Myrcella were as different as night and day. Myrcella was a dove while Boudicca was a crow. Myrcella was very beautiful and reminded her of the Maiden, dancing across the sky and bringing forth spring like in the stories. And then there was Boudicca, although she did not possess the beauty of her mother and siblings, she reminded her of the Warrior.

 _Then came forth the Warrior,_ she recited the book on the Seven. _He who sounds the drums of war. He who brings the storm. The Warrior rides across the sky in a chariot pulled by black stallions, their hooves sounding like thunder and as he raises his sword, calling out for the end of war, lightning strikes from it, igniting the skies above him. His wounds create the seas, the rivers and the streams. The blood that runs clear falls from the heavens._

Sansa makes her way towards the tent but stills when she notices several men kneeling in front of Queen Cersei. The first man was tall, handsome and powerfully built wearing an armour of forest green. The man stood up and faced her, for the briefest of moments she thought it was Boudicca but then she noticed the blue eyes and knew that it wasn't. They had their dark curls styled the same way and while Boudicca held softer features, which she had most likely gained from Cersei, she came to the realisation that he holds Boudicca's same soft features too. The man next to the Queen held an air of gentleness around him while Boudicca held a ferocity.

 _Renly Baratheon._ It did not take Sansa long to figure out who this man was. He was the youngest of the Baratheon brothers. Although she had not met or had seen Stannis, she guessed that Lord Renly was the kindest of the three. Sansa turned to a noise and saw Boudicca briskly walk towards Renly before she threw herself at him, pulling him into a tight embrace. _If he weren't a man,_ Sansa thinks. _She would have broken a rib or two of this._ It was a strange sight to see as they greeted each other like her father and the King did. Like, old friends.

"Look at you-" Renly began, a kindness in his tone as he smiled in delight. "You grow more beautiful each day, Boudicca."

"The same could be said for you, Uncle Renly," She chuckled and pulled away from him. "How was the journey then? I never thought you would be riding back to King's Landing with us."

"Princess Boudicca," The second man addressed, though his voice held fondness.

"Ser Barristan!" Boudicca proclaimed.

Boudicca moved swiftly to the older man and they gripped forearms before she pulled away. Sansa stared at the old man, with white hair and aged features. Though he was older, he still had some handsome features. The man wore white armour and cloak. Her eyes trailed up to meet his own and she saw his once sad eyes lighten when he began to tell her everything that has happened, though it did not hold her interest.

Sansa's blue eyes flickered to the third man and she shuddered, looking on warily. His face was gaunt and gruesome. His lips were pulled into a thin line and his face held no expression. His eyes were hollow and held no emotion. His armour was battle worn and rugged, though her eyes were trained on the greatsword that was strapped over his shoulder. His face was terrifying to witness, she could not help but visibly wince and shift to the side. Boudicca seemed to take notice of the man as well and turned to Lord Renly, scoffing.

"The Queen insisted on it." Renly laughed loudly. "Ser Illyn Payne is to be a part of the honour guard."

"What did you bring him for?" Boudicca inquired, her face screwing up in disdain and she was immediately reminded of when the Queen made that face during one of their many rides in the wheelhouse. "I never knew we were performing any executions."

 _Sansa, little dove, Boudicca may not share my looks but she is a Lannister nonetheless,_ Queen Cersei's voice echoes in her head. _She has my smile and fights like my brother, Jaime and unfortunately there is some of the little Imp in her too, else she would not have her chambers littered with books and literature. Boudicca most importantly has my mother's green eyes. I said this to my husband once, he refused to acknowledge me for moons worth. I soon began to wonder if he would ever speak to me again._

"Ser llyn Payne is the King's Justice. The Queen insisted on it," Renly laughed loudly and he too shared a similar look with Boudicca.

As if sensing her eyes on him, llyn Payne turned slowly to face her and their eyes met. His lips formed into a sickening sneer causing Sansa to quickly avert her eyes. Boudicca thankfully noticed her discomfort and approached her, looping an arm in her own. Lady whined at her feet, beginning to pace back and forth.

"Does Ser llyn scare you, Sansa?" Boudicca asked politely, though she heard a certain darkness in her tone. She saw concern etch onto the woman's features when she gave a quick nod. This prompted Boudicca to turn and face Ser llyn. "If you don't have any other purpose here, piss off. You're frightening Lady Sansa."

"It is alright, sweet Lady," Ser Barristan said. "Ser llyn frightens me as well, he has a rather fearsome aspect to him does he not?"

Ser llyn Payne stiffened but still bowed to them before he turned and walked away. Sansa smiled lightly in relief, her tense shoulders relaxing as Renly stifled his infamous loud laughter that he was apparently known for. Princess Boudicca held her arm tighter, pulling her closer as if to comfort her. _I will need to learn,_ Sansa thought. She knew that if she was to be Queen of Westeros someday, she would need to learn to be fierce. And who better to learn it from than Boudicca. There was a certain aspect about being near the eldest Baratheon child that gave you comfort, that gave you protection and she was glad that someday she may call her sister.

"Ser Barristan speaks the truth," Boudicca told her. "Ser llyn is the royal executioner, he tends to frighten most people."

"True," Lord Renly agreed. "He hasn't been talkative these past few years."

"I personally, do not think we need someone to rid us of our enemies," She informs her. "The man who sentences them to death should be the one to kill them. Though, my father cannot get off his arse to do so. In King's Landing, the place is crawling with treachery, treasons and traitors. Do not worry Sansa, I won't let anyone harm you or your family."

"It is Ser llyn's job to frighten the wicked, my fawn," Cersei said as she rose from her seat and approached them. "You should not send him off so abruptly in case wickedness is near. The world is full of liars."

"I find that when you stare into the face of a liar," Boudicca responded, staring at her mother. "You find that the lies stare right back at you."

Sansa was deeply surprised at the stiffness present in Boudicca's voice. It was strange the way the Princess spoke and it not only surprised her, the Queen was surprised too. Queen Cersei, stared at her daughter with sharpness and at one point, Sansa wondered if Cersei would strike her as she raised her hand but dropped it once more. The Queen opened her mouth to speak but when she did, voices shouted of a direwolf.

Her eyes widened and she looked down to the rope she held and noticed that Lady was not at the end of it, her eyes widened and she turned to look outside the tent and saw her direwolf, circling and yipping around the horses, startling them. The people outside of the tent took notice of her ever growing direwolf and were muttering and whispering feverishly. Lord Renly and the Kingsguard that had arrived with him, drew their swords, it seemed they were driven by complete instinct. Sansa's eyes became pleading and panicked, she looked frantically for her father, terrified of what they might do to Lady. She turned to face the Queen, who merely looked on as people approached her direwolf with weapons before she turned to face Boudicca, who held a frown on her face.

"Stay your swords, you horrible lot!" Boudicca thundered. "Off with you!"

They did not listen but it was at his point her betrothed and true love, Joffrey approached them. He sharply shoved Boudicca aside, the woman grunted at him, gifting him a look of disdain but when her eyes flickered to Joffrey's face, her blue eyes meeting his emerald green, everything else did not matter to her. He reached up and placed a gentle hand on her rose coloured cheek, stroking her face softly with a leathered thumb.

"Do not fear, my Lady. I will protect you," Joffrey said softly before he turned to face the crowd. "Leave us! You are causing my betrothed discomfort!"

The crowd departed and Sansa felt immediate relief, calling over Lady. She was finally at her Prince's side. She turned to thank Boudicca but noticed the woman had disappeared, though it was most likely due to being slighted at the fact Joffrey had shoved her. Joffrey held out his arm to her and she nervously accepted his arm, giving him a shy look.

Joffrey smiled charmingly at her as they began to walk, her notions of having lemon cakes with the Queen and her young children had gone. She was thrilled that he had asked to take her on a walk alongside the river bank and wondered, thinking back to Arya, if they would discover any rubies during their walk together. Her smile remained wide when she took in his blond hair that was like silken gold underneath the bright sun and his green eyes, like glittering jewels. Joffrey looked like one of the heroes in her songs. Occasionally, Joffrey would take a swig from the skin of wine he was carrying and offered some to her.

"I should not," Sansa insisted hesitantly. "My father only lets us drink a single cup at sup."

"You are my betrothed. And my betrothed can drink as much as she wants," Joffrey urged.

Sansa's cheeks reddened and she accepted the skin but only took a small sip. As she and her Prince walked along the Ruby Ford, the strange sound that they kept hearing, disrupting their peace grew nearer. Sansa looked over towards the river and saw Arya and Mycah fighting with sticks. Though as laughter rang out, she knew that they were jesting.

"I am Ser Barristan Selmy-" Mycah stated as he whacked her sister with the stick. "And I will defeat you."

"I am Boudicca!" Arya shouted with glee as they both laughed. "And I will end you!"

"What is going on here?" Joffrey asked with a sneer on his face.

Sansa stilled, her lips leaving the skin of wine when she noticed the wicked gleam in his eyes. His voice caught her sister and the butcher boy's attention. Mycah immediately dropped his stick and gave an awkward, stumbling bow to her betrothed. However, her younger sister stared at Joffrey with such an intensity that she never knew her sister could possess.

"Go away," Arya demanded. "Leave us be!"

"Who are you, boy?" Joffrey inquired, ignoring Arya and turning to face Mycah.

"M-Mycah," Mycah stuttered, his frightened eyes remained on the ground.

"He is the butcher's boy," Sansa informed Joffrey but looked on warily.

"Oh, I see-" Joffrey said, a grin spreading across his face. "A boy who picks fights with girls and wants to play knight. Is that right, boy?"

"N-No, m-mi'lord," Mycah stammered, her eyes widened in fear when she saw Joffrey unsheathe Lion's Tooth.

"I am no _Lord_ , I am a _Prince._ I want you to pick up your sword then," Joffrey sneers and stalks towards the boy. "Let us see how good you are."

"I-It is not a sword, my Prince. It's only a wood stick," Mycah said frantically and began to back away.

"And you are not a knight," Joffrey leered and the tip of his sword came into contact with the boy's cheek. " _Now_. Do as I say."

"Please, my Prince," Sansa implored, looking on in fear at the events that slowly unfolded in front of her. "Please, do not hurt him. Let us continue our walk. We can leave my sister and her friend alone to their childish games. It would please me if we continued our-"

"I am the Crown Prince," Joffrey interrupted, turning to face her with a glare. "I do what I wish and I intend on teaching him a lesson. Besides, I won't hurt him _much_ …"

Sansa winced at the look he gave her but he then turned his attention back to Mycah, pressing his sword further into the boy's cheek. Joffrey spoke with such malice, that it made the foreboding warning that Boudicca gave her become clearer as he pressed the edge of his blade against Mycah's cheek, causing blood to spill from the cut, trailing down the boy's freckled cheek.

" _Leave him alone!_ " Arya shouted, charging for Joffrey.

Arya screamed with all her might and brought down the wooden stick, hitting Joffrey on the head. The Prince hissed and roared from the pain, he turned and started to swing Lion's Tooth at her sister. Much to Sansa's horror, Arya simply dodged his wild swings, keeping her distance from the Prince. He bellowed a string of curses that were cruel on her ears and made her heart pained. Out from the corner of her eyes, she saw the butcher's boy run away.

"You little bitch!" Joffrey seethed.

"Please!" Sansa begged, though her pleas fell deaf to their ears as they fought. "Stop this, both of you! You are ruining _everything_!"

Arya suddenly lost her footing when Joffrey swung harshly at her, he swung the sword like one would do an axe. Her sister lay on the ground, scrambling back as Joffrey advanced on her, his eyes burning with anger as he and his sword, pointing at her sister's chin loomed over her. Her breath hitched as she looked on fearfully. _He wouldn't actually hurt her, would he?_ Sansa thought with panic, wishing that she had brought the horn with her.

"I'll gut you for that, you little cunt!" He roared, spit flying everywhere but that is when Sansa noticed a flash of grey.

 _Nymeria_ , Sansa thought. The next thing she saw was Joffrey thrown to the ground. His sword arm was stuck between the powerful jaws of the golden eyed direwolf. Joffrey began to wail in both horror and terror before he collapsed to the ground fully, whimpering and writhing from the pain he no doubt was in. Arya called frantically for Nymeria and she watched on in horror, as Nymeria with her bloody muzzle trotted back to Arya. Arya bent down and picked up Lion's Tooth and menacingly pointed it at Joffrey.

"Arya!" Sansa screamed, looking on fearfully. "Arya! Leave him alone! Stop it!"

"Don't worry," Arya said, a mocking tone in her voice. "I won't hurt you, _much_."

"N-No," He pleaded, fear in his eyes. "P-Please, don't hurt me! _Please_ …"

Instead, Arya turned and threw Lion's Tooth into the river with all the might in her small body and with a light splash, Arya and Nymeria ran for the woods as fast as they could. And with her sister gone, Sansa rushed over to Joffrey and knelt by her Prince's side. Sansa worriedly took in his wound though it was not just the fact Nymeria and Arya had attacked the Prince, that had her worried. He had shown the side of himself that Boudicca had talked about, while she was glad that Arya was not her. She knew she must help her betrothed.

"My Prince…look at what they did to you," Sansa gasped, looking at him with concern. "Stay. I will go back to the camp and bring help."

"Then go!" Joffrey sneered, she reached out to comfort him but he snatched his arm away and leered at her. "Do not touch me."

* * *

Boudicca Baratheon

 _Dear_ _Boudicca,_

 _While I cannot hide my relief that we weren't to be married sooner, I am disappointed however that you had to leave for King's Landing, instead. I had desired to get to know you more, especially if we are to be husband and wife. I look to the night's sky and the moon, and I think of you. I think of that night. If I come across as blunt, please tell me so, but I desire to kiss you again. The next time I do, I fear that I will not be able to let go. I hope that one day you will be proud to bear the same name as I, as House Stark. You will return to me, however long it takes and until then, I will wait for you._

 _Sorry if I sounded too vague or blunt, Theon is currently looming over my shoulder. He sends his greetings, as does Grey Wind. He misses you._

 _As do I,_

 _Robb._

Boudicca smiled down at the letter, feeling her cheeks unwillingly redden and she cursed herself for acting like such a maid. She chuckled half heartedly and folded the piece of parchment and tucked it into the black sleeve of her tunic for safe keeping. Then she turned her attention to the small silver pendant he had sent her and was reminded instantly of his direwolf, Grey Wind. It was a silver head of a wolf with a small shine to its eyes, while it was simple in design, it was the most beautiful piece of jewellery she had ever seen. It was more beautiful than any of the rubies her mother wore. The necklace represented and showed the more peaceful and kinder life she would come to live when she journeyed back to Winterfell.

 _Even in his letters…he is kind,_ Boudicca thinks to herself.

Boudicca's head snapped up at the sound of bushes rustling near her and she stared at the bushes intently, her smile instantly falling. She stood, tying the pendant around her neck and slowly approached, keeping her hand wrapped around her sword as she walked towards the bushes with hostility. Boudicca reached out and very carefully pulled back the branches and leaves. A frown made its way onto her face.

"Arya?" Boudicca asked, tilting her head in curiosity. Arya emerged from the bushes and lunged for her, wrapping her arms around her waist tightly.

"What happened?" She questioned, kneeling beside the girl and pulled the twigs and leaves from her hair. "Are you alright?"

"No," Arya said stiffly, shaking her head. Boudicca sighed at the sniffing girl and hoisted her up.

"Was it Joffrey?" Boudicca inquired, the silence she was greeted with confirmed her suspicions.

As they made the short journey back, Boudicca asked her what had happened. The more Arya told her story, the angrier her feelings were towards Joffrey. She knew that her brother most likely lied like he always did but she nevertheless congratulated the girl on beating up her brother. They finally made it to the outskirts of the campsite, just as the sky began to darken, informing her that it would be night soon.

And by this time, Boudicca was covered in dirt and her boots were layered in mud that she could not even see the black leather. Boudicca hoisted the girl further up, letting the girl's body rest on her back as she journeyed to Lord Eddard's tent. The moment she entered, the man's worried grey eyes fixated on Arya. Boudicca set the girl down, who immediately ran to her father. Ned approached, pulling his daughter into a tight hug.

"Thank you," Lord Stark said with a curt nod. "You have my gratitude for this."

"No need," Boudicca insisted. "However, I am glad I found her before my mother or the Hound did. What will you do now?"

"I need to get her cleaned up. Then I will face your mother and father, I suppose," Lord Eddard replied gruffly and swallowed loudly. "I will be back in a moment."

"Do not mind, Joffrey, Arya," Boudicca said as Ned hurriedly left the tent, no doubt calling for the Septa. "He's a little shite. He was born a shite, he will live the life of a shite and with all the shite he speaks, he will most likely die from choking on shite. And shites like him, they try to tame us. As we grow older, they always try to find a way to make us into a perfect, obedient Lady. Duty. Marriage. _Children._ But we, we are the strong ones. _Not them_."


	8. Chapter Seven

_King's Landing_

Cersei Lannister

After the beast was killed, all she felt was tension and hatred. Her children were deeply affected by this. Her sweet cubs, Myrcella and Tommen knew of how their older siblings would come to blows, sensing the fight that would erupt soon and kept to themselves. As of late, they found their food more interesting than making idle conversation. The tension grew especially worse when Boudicca had come across the butcher boy's body that the Hound had killed. Cersei looked over the rim of her goblet at her older children and it seemed Robert had the same wariness, eyeing them as he ripped apart the tender white meat of the chicken leg.

Her eldest daughter was acting like a petulant child, as she refused to acknowledge them and had not spoken to her nor her husband, while she spoke to Myrcella and Tommen, she had not breathed a word to Joffrey. The death of the butcher's boy had enraged her. On returning back to their tents that night, Boudicca brought both the body of the boy and the sobbing parents to both her and Robert.

 _This is the way of the world,_ Robert had sighed. _Although, I am sorry for their loss. I can-_

 _It's an injustice!_ Boudicca had roared.

Those were the last words she spoke to them. A week has passed and Boudicca has spent most of her time riding aback her horse with the wild wolf girl at her side along with Ser Barristan. Boudicca spent the majority of her time with the Stark girl, to the point where she rarely saw her daughter except for meals or when she came to the wheelhouse to talk with Myrcella and Tommen but even then, her eldest daughter did not always dine with them.

Cersei did not like the fact that her daughter was growing attached to the Stark girls and spent her time with the wolf girl, it was only making her wilder than she already was. Though, it was the expression on her daughter's face that she knew all too well. _Anger_. It was a seething anger, it was the same face that reminded her of her father, Lord Tywin. They both shared an impassiveness and when you know of their feelings, it was too late as you already were sentenced to death or flogged.

Her daughter stabbed the pork with her knife, her eyes were focused solely on Joffrey, a storm brewing in her green eyes. Her dark haired daughter never once tore her eyes off of Joffrey but somehow her fork still managed to make its way to her mouth as she ripped the piece of pork from her fork. Cersei downed her wine, feeling the tension rise in Robert.

"Seven Hells!" Robert boomed, agitation in his voice. "I'm fed up of this feud! Say something! _Anything_!"

"Something. _Anything_ ," Boudicca drawled quietly, without breaking her gaze.

Joffrey's green eyes narrowed dangerously, she knew her eldest son was trying his best to ignore the steely glare of Boudicca. Cersei knew that look all too well, eventually, everyone submits to the gaze. Her father had that look. _The look of dark days to come._ And finally, like she knew would happen eventually, her ill tempered son lost it, slamming his hands against the table, knocking over his wine goblet. His face turned red and his eyes were manic.

"Stop it!" Joffrey hissed.

" _Stop?_ " Boudicca repeats with a raised brow. "What am I doing? I'm merely eating."

"You know fine well what you are doing!" Joffrey hissed, clenching his jaw and grits his teeth, grinding them together. "You have done this for the past week and I have had enough! I command you to stop it! If you do not, I will have your eyes gouged out!"

"You command me?" Boudicca asked. "You cannot command me. Last I heard, Robert Baratheon was the King."

"Mother!" Joffrey snarled, his eyes narrowing even further as he turned to face her. Cersei raised the goblet to her lips, taking a sip as she raised her brow at him, remaining silent. "Tell her to stop. I want her to stop it. Boudicca is making me uncomfortable. Make her stop!"

"If discomfort is all you felt, then you are a little bastard!" Boudicca growled.

"That little Stark bitch attacked _me_!" Joffrey exclaimed.

Cersei and Robert shared a glance as they watched the battle of words between her eldest children. She saw Myrcella and Tommen edge their chairs away from both Joffrey and Boudicca, sensing the argument that they all knew was about to erupt. Cersei leant back in her chair, sipping her wine and parted her lips in a sigh. After over ten years of listening to them fighting, she knew well enough by now to let them tire out. It was best to let it run its course, quite like a storm. Boudicca was the thunder and wind, Joffrey was the lightning and rain. And if she or her husband intervened it might escalate even further, especially if either she or Robert dared to side with the other.

Boudicca _laughed._ After the tense silence and evil glares that were given, her chuckles turned into loud laughter. It took everyone by surprise. Cersei's eyes met Robert's face, who was normally unfazed and uncaring by anything their children did but he too had to look on in surprise as their daughter threw her head back and howled. Yet she found herself growing more uncomfortable, it was not the warm hearted and boisterous laughter that they were used to hearing. It was a cold and harsh laugh, cold as the Northern winds and there was no humour in it.

"You have the audacity to call her a _bitch_ , after everything that you have done! You cunt!" Boudicca snarled, stabbing her knife harshly into the table and a tense silence fell across the table then. Tommen and Myrcella looked up from their plates in fear, watching their older siblings with worry and edged even further away from them. And she too found herself sitting further back in fear that either Boudicca or Joffrey would lunge at the other. "You are a _liar_!"

"I speak the truth!" Joffrey insisted, clenching his fists as he leant over the table, rising to his feet.

"You have caused an injustice!" She seethes, looking at him with her eyes ablaze. "You are a monster! You tried to harm a little girl! A child! I suppose...I suppose, I shouldn't expect any less, knowing who you are and what you have done. But…but that boy, that _poor_ boy. He did not deserve that fate. Tell me, Joff. If I ever cross you, will you kill me too? Will you send your Hound after me?"

"I got mangled by her beast-" Joffrey spat, waving his injured arm. "I have the scars to prove it."

"And with everything you have done to me, I have mine!" Boudicca shot back.

The silence fell once more causing Cersei winced inwardly, she knew everything her daughter had spoke was the truth. Her daughter did bear more scars than most. She grimaced when she thought back to the time on her daughter's ninth name day when he had struck her with a whip, leaving lacerations on her back. And then she thought back to the most recent scar she had gained when Joffrey had stabbed her arm with a knife, leaving a jagged and ugly scar.

 _She will bear these scars for life,_ Cersei thinks.

"If you are telling the truth and what you claim is true-" Boudicca began, sitting back in her chair with a cold expression on her face. Her green eyes were impassive as the lion of Casterly Rock's then. "I want you to look me in the eye and tell me the truth. Do you remember the promise I made you? If you do, I suggest you tell me."

"I-I already t-told you," He stammered, his eyes vigorously looking around the room before his eyes landed on Boudicca once more. "I was telling the truth."

" _Look me in the eye_ ," Boudicca demanded.

"I do not have to say anything to you, cunt," Joffrey hissed. He stood then and pointed his knife to her, the blade and his hand shaking from anger. "You don't think I have heard the stories? Some say you are just father's bastard that he took in because he pitied you and then mother put up with you. I have heard rather conflicting stories, some say you were once a boy but were castrated. I am the Crown Prince. I will be King someday. While you, you were born an unwanted bastard, you will live the life of a wolf bitch and you-"

"Shut up, you snivelling little shite!" Robert roared, pointing a fat finger to Joffrey. "I have heard enough. You are giving me a damned headache."

"You insolent cub!" Boudicca snapped to Joffrey but Robert raised his finger to her, quietening her.

" _Enough_ ," He commanded, bringing the argument to end and after that, they resumed their meal in silence.

Cersei cut into her pork and stabbed it gently with the fork, her eyes trained on her eldest children. The entirety of the Red Keep may laugh in her face if she told them, but she once remembered a time where Boudicca and Joffrey held love for one another. Cersei remembered when Boudicca and Joffrey took it in turns to ride each other's backs and she would watch in pride as they ran through the gardens, _laughing_ and playing. Those were times of innocence when her daughter and son were not trying to kill each other in the cruellest of ways. The relationship between both her oldest children started to go rotten when Myrcella was born and then Tommen. Joffrey…Joffrey was not kind to them like he should have been and Boudicca did not like that.

 _I'll protect him, mother._ Her daughter had once vowed, her voice soft and kind. _I won't let anything or anyone hurt him. I swear._

 _If he ever lays a finger on them again,_ Boudicca's voice echoed in her mind once more, hissing at her. _I'll kill him. I promise._

* * *

Eddard Stark

Ned Stark was exhausted, to say the least. The journey to King's Landing had been a depressing and stressful affair. His eldest daughter, Sansa had been crying over the death of Lady and he could not help but feel guilty, as her death was by his hand. His youngest daughter, Arya had been crying over the murder of the innocent butcher's boy, Mycah. The incident at the Trident had left a strain on his relationship with Robert but it also strained the relationship with his daughters. And it seemed after talking to Robert, that he was in the same situation with his eldest daughter, Boudicca.

Boudicca reminded him eerily of his brother Brandon, he was wild too and cared little. _He died before his time,_ Eddard thought solemnly. The incident may have caused a rift between him and his old friend but Boudicca had taken to keeping Arya and Sansa company throughout their journey, she even went as far as offering them rides along the riverbank. Although at certain times of the day the younger Princess and Prince were accompanying them too, much to the dismay of the Queen.

Ned was grateful for the company of the Princess and he was certain that she would make his eldest son, Robb, a happy man especially with the amount of letters he received for the Princess. And with the direwolf necklace she wore around her neck, it seemed he was making her happy too. All he wanted was for his children to be happy and if she made him so, he had no ill thoughts of her.

The moment that they entered the Red Keep of King's Landing, Ned was hounded by the spiders and the snakes that made up the Small Council. He once swore that he would never step foot in King's Landing, a city of treachery ever again but now here he was. The first to greet him was Lord Varys, though he knew him by another name, the Spider. The bald man was the Master of Whispers, and he trusted this man the least.

"Lord Stark," Lord Varys addressed formerly, a sly grin on his face.

"Lord Varys," Ned responded and gave him a curt nod as he took a seat.

"I have heard some rather troubling news during your journey to King's Landing," Lord Varys tells him. "Our prayers are with the Crown Prince."

"It's not him you need to pray for," He replied gruffly. "It's the butcher's boy."

Then there was the light hearted Lord Renly, Robert's youngest brother and the Master of Laws. Ned has only conversed with him once or twice for a short period of time but he always thought of him as a nice enough man, though the downfall to Renly Baratheon was that he was too carefree. Grand Maester Pycelle was the third man to greet him and while he seemed respectful, he noticed something _off_ about the old man.

 _You._

Ned looked on in disdain when he watched the short, slender man that went by the name of Petyr Baelish or as he called him, Littlefinger. _He was in love with my wife,_ Ned thought while he eyed him carefully. _And he still does love her._ It was no secret and he knew that Littlefinger was in love with his wife, Catelyn. As he looked around, trying to avoid Littlefinger and his smug eyes, he noticed that a member of the council was missing. _The Master of Ships._

"Where is Lord Stannis?" He voiced, all he received was a dry laugh from Renly.

"My dear brother left for Dragonstone shortly after Lord Arryn's death," Renly answered with a smirk. "Good riddance, I say."

 _Of course,_ _he would leave as I arrive,_ Eddard thought with a sigh. The one man in the Small Council that he trusted and respected, was gone. Although Ser Barristan Selmy was present and a part of the Small Council as the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard but even then, Robert made it clear he did not want nor need Ser Selmy in and on his council.

"You look weary, Lord Stark," Renly muses. "I wanted to hold the meeting tomorrow but Lord Baelish…"

"-Is wise enough to know that we have a Kingdom to run," Petyr Baelish interrupts. "It has been a long time, Lord Stark. How is Cat?"

"She is well," Ned answers vaguely not wishing to talk about his wife with the likes of him. "I take it you knew my brother well, too?"

"I have carried your brother's token my entire life," Littlefinger replies, his sickeningly smug smirk widening as he trailed a pointed finger down his chest. Their eyes never left. Although he was smiling, his eyes were not. "I keep his token near my heart."

"You chose to duel with the wrong man," Ned notes.

"Ah, how I have missed the Northerners in King's Landing," Lord Petyr hums, his smirk fading as he took a seat and began to pour himself a goblet of wine. "It has been a while, hasn't it? Although, I would never choose your brother. I chose your _wife_. Catelyn Tully. She is one of the few women in this word that are worth fighting for and there isn't many worth fighting for but she was and always will be, wouldn't you agree, Lord Stark?"

"My Lords," Pycelle's gravely voices interrupts. "I believe we have more pressing matters at hand such as-"

"My brother desires a tourney to celebrate his daughter's name day," Lord Renly announced as he sat down. He shot Eddard a courteous smile and leant back in his seat, handing him a piece of parchment as he does so. "Her ten and seventh name day. And of course, to honour the new Hand of the King, Lord Eddard Stark. It will be a grand affair, it should only be the best for my niece and my Lord Ned."

"A grand affair," Littlefinger repeats and Ned shifted uncomfortable, finding Littlefinger sitting far too close to him. "How much?"

"Let's see, forty thousand gold dragons to the Champion of the joust-" Ned began, reading out the hefty prices which only caused him to grow more uncomfortable. "And thirty thousand to the runner up, twenty thousand to the Victor of the melee and ten thousand shall go to the Victor of the archery contest. How can you possibly afford this?"

"A hundred thousand gold pieces," Littlefinger summed.

"The crown and treasury surely cannot bear such a heavy expense?" Pycelle inquired. _No,_ Ned thought with dread. _Surely it cannot, can it?_

"The treasury is empty, it has been empty since the storm that ravaged the Red Keep," Littlefinger stated, before turning to face him with a sly glance as his brow furrowed. "After all, we already owe Lord Tywin Lannister three million in gold dragons."

"…Are you saying that the crown is _three_ million in debt?" Ned asked slowly, placing the letter down as he stills.

"If only," Lord Baelish scoffs. "The crown is _six_ million in debt. We have borrowed three million from the Lannisters, two million from the Iron Bank of Braavos. The crown has even borrowed from Mace Tyrell and he has even borrowed from the Faith."

" _You_ are the Master of _Coin_ ," Eddard says sharply and eyes him with a steely stare. "You could have stopped this."

"Yes, I may be the Master of Coin but my duty is only to find the gold," Lord Petyr informs him. "It is the King who spends it."

Ned leant back in his seat, trying to overcome his shock, he could not believe and learn that Robert foolishly had spent his entire reign plunging the realm into such a heavy debt. He swallowed roughly, glancing back down to the prices on the parchment. _Six million gold dragons,_ Eddard thought in disbelief as he already felt the burden slowly dropping onto his shoulders. _And how can he be in debt to Tywin Lannister? Of all people. Jon Arryn would never have allowed this._

"How could he let this happen?" Eddard muttered, his frown deepening as he rubbed his face with a sigh.

"We did try, my Lord," Pycelle said as he shook his head. "His Grace hardly listens to wise advice. The King does as he pleases. Jon Arryn could only do and say so much, he only ever listened to his eldest but even then it was to an extent. The wisest words truly come from the mouths of babes. I fear that His Grace will not listen to anyone, even you."

"I will speak with him today," Ned replies and straightens his back, leaning into the wooden seat. "We cannot afford the tournament. Hold off any plans you have made for the tournament until I have spoken with him. Perhaps I can talk some sense into him."

"Of course, my Lord," Varys said. "After all, you are the King's Hand. We serve you."

Ned let out a long sigh, running fingers through his hair. The long journey had exhausted him both in the body and in mind, and now these new found revelations had added to that stress he felt. He now had a heavy burden and responsibility reluctantly bestowed upon him. _I must speak with Robert,_ Ned thought to himself as he thought on the tourney that should not happen.

* * *

As he sat at his desk, Ned let his worrying mind drift from the debt and more towards Robert's eldest daughter and child. He first saw her at Winterfell and for the briefest moment with his ageing eyes, Eddard thought she was Robert. Boudicca resembled Robert in his youth, and in the present, she did resemble Lord Renly greatly. Robert and Boudicca certainly had a temper outmatched and even their impulsive and fierce personality was the same. As he spent more time with her, he discovered that her mindset differed from Robert's and he wondered why. _Then I remember who her grandfather is,_ Ned thinks. He let out a long sigh and sunk into his chair, longing for sleep.

Ned owed the girl, she had returned his daughter to him after she went missing at the Trident. And then afterwards, kept them company and was not afraid to show face, unlike her father. She had been the only one to openly protect against the injustice in Lady's execution, even defying her father and mother for his daughter's happiness. And most of all she shared his anger at what happened to the butcher's boy, Mycah and he winced slightly, remembering the screams from the mother as he recalled her giving the news of the boy's murder to his family.

" _Boudicca_ ," Ned murmured to himself as he thought back to the betrothal between Sansa and Joffrey. "Why weren't you born a boy?"

Eddard often asked himself this often and after a moment or so of thinking about how to get through to Robert, he decided to pay the girl a visit. _I am surrounded by liars and fools, she knows the court better than I._ At first, he was uncertain if she was trustworthy but he came to find that the girl was cunning but he also came to find out that she was blunt and he found her to be honest.

Ned reached the Princess's chambers and clenched his right fist and knocked on the door. He heard shuffling and a moment later Boudicca had opened the door by a crack and opened it wider upon seeing, she looked taken aback when she saw him, her green eyes widening in surprise. _If she is anything like a Lannister, I hope she knows the Small Council's intentions._

"Lord Stark," Boudicca addressed.

"Princess Boudicca," He replied and bowed slightly. "Forgive me for disturbing you."

"There is nothing to forgive, you didn't disturb me," She replied dismissively and waved him. "Come in."

"I was wondering if you could give me an insight on your father's council," Ned informed her as he stepped inside the room, closing the door behind him.

"I trust you weren't followed?" Boudicca asked, with a raised brow causing him to furrow his own.

"Followed? By who?" He inquired, stepping further into her chambers.

"Birds," She muses. "They are everywhere, aren't they? Always singing their irritating songs."

He raised an eyebrow slightly at that before he took in her chambers and his eyes widened slightly at the vast amount of knowledge that was contained in this room and had there not been a bed, he would have almost mistaken it for the royal library. Boudicca's chambers were furnished differently to the other rooms that he has encountered in the castle. He supposed the royal chambers would be different than the rest.

On the walls were shelves lined with books, row upon row, though he peered at the titles and saw they mostly consisted of warfare, politics and history along with a few books on folklore. Her bed, covered in silken furs and red linen was situated at the far corner near the balcony. The silk black curtain embroidered with gold that concealed the open balcony, swayed gently in the soft and warm wind. His eyes flickered towards the table situated in the middle of her chambers and saw that it held several small candles, a quill and ink pot, and he noticed pieces of parchment was scattered across the table. Ned could not help but look to the last wall and saw various weapons on showcase along with a large map of Westeros.

 _A thirst for learning,_ Eddard thought on Robert's words as she pulled a couple of chairs from beside the wall and beckoned him to sit by her as she took out two goblets and a bottle of wine from her cabinet. On her bed, he noticed a chess set with several puzzles pieces, indicating that she was playing a game by herself. _More like an obsession._

"Tell me, Lord Stark-" Boudicca began as she poured the wine. "What would you like to know?"

"I want to know who I can trust," Ned said and leaning forward, placing his hands on each knee.

" _No one_ ," Boudicca confessed, passing him a wine goblet before she took a small sip of her own. "I feel that life is safer that way, King's Landing is filled with snakes. If you look past the pretty whores and the beautiful architecture of the Red Keep, behind all the gold and the silk and the songs, lurks something much more dangerous and deadly. _The game._ I have come to understand how the game is played and I want no part in it, they manipulate my father. He may have commanded and fought a rebellion but now, now he is a weak minded fool, drink has consumed his senses and that will end him."

"…And the Small Council?" He asks hesitantly, sitting up straighter, surprised at her confession.

"I suppose you can trust my uncle, Lord Stannis and Ser Barristan, I would never question him. They value justice and honesty, although my uncle may be too brutal with it. I still have no understanding why my uncle Stannis left for Dragonstone. I think you and my uncle would have worked together to end the crippling debt that my father has landed my family and the crown in," Boudicca answers and he looked on with wide, wary eyes.

"You know about the debt?" He asked carefully.

"Have you seen my father's belly?" Boudicca retorted, lifting a brow. _True,_ he thinks to himself. "And the lavish tourneys he holds."

"What about the other members?" Ned asked, assessing her.

"I doubt Pycelle can be trusted unless you are aligned with House Lannister. The Grand Maester's loyalties lie with Tywin Lannister. He might appear old and frail and slow. But in reality-" Boudicca paused, leaning forward to look him in the eye. "He is full of shite. In truth, he is amongst the best liars in this game. The Mad King trusted his council as did Jon Arryn…look where that got them both, yet somehow he still lives. My uncle Renly is unfit to be a council member. While I adore my uncle as he is a kind and trustworthy man, he is _too_ kind. He takes his job as Master of Laws as seriously as my father does with ruling."

Although he listened to her half heartedly when she continued to speak highly of her uncle, he studied the young woman with an intensity that went unnoticed by her while she sipped her wine and talked about Renly. He saw something glint underneath her tunic and as she shifted he saw it. _A direwolf._ Ned knew this was the gift his son talked about in his letter to him, a gift he gave to Boudicca. Ned nodded slightly, reconfirming that he could trust the girl.

"Lord Varys. He is a spider and is the most unpredictable individual that I have come across. I fear him, I fear him because I do not know what he is planning, but I know whatever it is, it is not good and it especially isn't in the interest of any Baratheon or Lannister. Lord Varys is loyal to the realm, he told me so and I think that a man with nothing to lose, would do anything to keep it safe," She stated firmly, an edge to her voice. "I must admit he is far more sincere than Lord Baelish."

"Baelish?" Eddard asked, clenching his jaw.

"Yes, Petyr Baelish," Boudicca confirmed. "I wouldn't trust him. Littlefinger and the Spider have spies all around the Seven Kingdoms. They accept all information's. I guarantee that someone will be reporting our conversation to them as of this moment. They have eyes, ears and mouths everywhere. There are no such thing as secrets in King's Landing."

"How do you know this?" Ned questioned.

"Like I said, birds," Boudicca responded vaguely. "They sing songs."

"Thank you," Eddard said with a curt nod while he rose from his seat, placing the full wine goblet on the table. "Why tell me this?"

"I trust you Lord Stark," She replies sincerely. He heads for the door but stills and turns to face her once more. "You are my father's dearest friend."

"Princess Boudicca, may I ask you one more thing?" He inquires.

"Yes."

"Jon Arryn," Eddard asked, his voice lower than it ever has been. "Do you believe he died of natural causes?"

" _No_. No, he did not," Boudicca says solemnly with a shake of her head.

"And what makes you so certain?" Ned presses, his brow furrowing.

"Jon Arryn. He was like that of a grandfather to me," Boudicca sighed and looked on grimly. It seemed his death had pained her just as much as it pained both him and Robert. "The lie is the innocent flower and the truth is the serpent that lurks underneath it. And he happened to be struck by that serpent."

* * *

Author's Note: Hey! I hope you like Chapter's 7, 8, 9 and 10! I would like to thank all of you for making this one of your favourites and for following this story. I would like to give a massive thanks to everyone that has left a review, and I would also like to thank everyone that has read this story. The next update should be up soon.

 _Reviews_

Boramir: Thank you! Hopefully you like the next few chapters. Boudicca will have a lot of people loyal to her after the King's death.

RHatch89: Thank you! I hope you like Chapter's 7, 8, 9 and 10!

celticank: Thank you, I hope you like these chapters! She will find out about Cersei and Jaime's relationship soon and you're right in thinking she's going to flip!

Guest 1: It is all a matter of perception of where in the world of Westeros they are, to some Boudicca may be regarded as 'comely' but to others, they see her as a 'wild beauty'. It all comes down to the region and what is regarded as 'beautiful' to them. She may be loud, rough and opinionated but in my eyes, that doesn't make her any less of a woman. Arya Stark and Brienne of Tarth are more examples and they certainly don't act like girls, they fight with swords and aren't afraid to get bloody. Lady Catelyn and Sansa are considered very beautiful yet Arya is considered 'comely' and is even called 'horse face' at one point, further along in the books she was regarded as 'pretty' by the kindly man. Then there is Visenya Targaryen and the Rhoynar Queen Nymeria, they were both Warrior Queens. I could go on and on but it is all to do with perception of what the character's feel and their preferences are. Along with the reader's perception on the character.

Guest 2: Thank you, I'm glad you like her personality and the relationships I've built with her and how she interacts with different characters. I'm glad you like those scenes and I hope you like the next couple of chapters!

Meg: Thank you, I'm glad you like Boudicca and think that she is authentic, that is amazing to her. There will be things that crop up in both Boudicca's and Cersei's pov's that go further into their relationship. I'm glad you liked the interaction between Cersei and Jaime. Boudicca will have her loyalties tested and will be really conflicted and torn. Though she been torn all her life between her parents.

Saint River: Thank you, hopefully you will like the next couple of chapters. I am going to build a relationship between, though for the events after their relationship ends along with other things will set in motion how she evolves into the Warrior Queen.


	9. Chapter Eight

_King's Landing_

Boudicca Baratheon

 _Dear Robb,_

 _Tell Theon I said 'hello', if he is nearby, then tell him he should set up a permanent settlement in the brothel. I can hear the whores plead for him from all the way in my chambers. That'd do both of you good. I have taken a while to reply to you but if I am honest, I was hesitant to write back as I was not sure how you were with everything that has unfolded within the past few weeks. You have got a lot to worry about, as have I. King's Landing is still the same shite hole as it always is, full of cunning. I will have to keep an eye on your family, particularly Sansa and your Lord father. I fear that they may become entrapped and entangled in the spider's web._

 _You are a truthful man, I am not. I am a liar. And you make me want to be a better woman. I know you like me for how I am but I know that I can be a better woman. Everything that I have ever done in this lifetime was for my own blood and if I am to marry you and become your wife, to one day have your heirs. That makes you mine and I know you feel the same way-I know you do. You make me feel things, I don't necessarily like it but I hope that you one day may feel the same as I. You are caring and honourable and…and you're kind. And every day, I will try to be worthy of someone who cares so much._

 _Thank you for the gift, wolf boy._

 _Boudicca._

Boudicca placed her quill back in the ink pot and sealed her letter with a Baratheon seal. She inspected it with a slanted smile before she laid it carefully in the secret compartment underneath her desk until she had time to send it. Although it was her nameday, she couldn't care less for it. _I survived another year,_ Boudicca thinks to herself. A tourney would be held in her and in Lord Stark's honour. The joust was for her and the melee was in honour of him. The tourney would apparently last for at least two days, tomorrow would be the final round for the joust and the melee along with the archery competition.

 _All these fancy knights in their fancy armour playing with wooden sticks and prancing around on their horse,_ Boudicca thought with disdain as she screwed up her face at the thought of being sat beside her father and mother, watching two people charge at each other on their horses. _I'd rather watch the melee._ Her father hosted a lot of tourney's and she was all too familiar with jousts and she has never liked them. The only part she found entertaining was the melee. It felt as if she was on looking an actual battle. No horses. No lances. No fancy armour. Just footwork and swords. To most a melee was a fight. To her, to her, it was a _dance._ At times, she cursed herself for being a woman. If she were a man, she would have been allowed to participate. Boudicca remembered when she was seven and had asked her father if she could but he merely laughed in her face.

Boudicca stood up and approached the long mirror, checked herself in it, her mother had gifted her with a red and black dress with gold trimming. She cared little for the colour red but since it was a gift from her mother and the dress was gold and red, her mother's colours, she decided to wear it in honour of her. Although she knew her father would probably eye her in disdain for wearing it. Her eyes followed the length of the dress and she looked over her shoulder, her eyes landing on the train behind her and she prayed to all the Gods then, that she didn't trip on the fabric.

Boudicca picked up Tommen and Myrcella's gift and held in front of her face, inspecting it in the mirror. It was a circlet of gold with small rubies encased in it. She shined it slightly, breathing on it before rubbing it with the sleeve of her red dress before placing it on her head. It sat just right on her forehead. Boudicca continued making adjustments to her clothing and hair but let her mind wander to her Uncle Stannis.

In truth, she was suspicious as to why he left for Dragonstone so abruptly and at some point she wondered if he was linked to the death of Jon Arryn. The entirety of King's Landing knew that he wanted to be Hand of the King. She hoisted up the skirt ungracefully and slid her knee high black boots on with a grunt she let the skirts drop back to the ground and nodded slightly, liking what she say before leaving her chambers to make her way to the tourney.

 _The Tourney of the Storm._

It was by far the grandest tourney in Boudicca's living memory. The city was buzzing with life and activity. There were more knights and onlookers that have shown up to this one than any other tourney she has ever been to combined. Boudicca lifted her dress, making her way up to the stands and took a seat next to her father's left hand side. It was a position she had held since her fifth name day but unfortunately, she was in the middle of both her mother and father which caused tension between the three of them. Her mother appeared shortly after with her younger siblings, her mother's green eyes landed on her and she gave a small smirk before taking her seat.

Boudicca recognised the competitors as they rode past and bowed low on their horse to her, her father and mother along with her siblings. Yohn Royce, Loras Tyrell; who was gifting women roses. Beric Dondarrion, Balon Swann, Jory Cassel; who shot her a wink. Then there was Ser Barristan, finally followed by her uncle, Jaime.

The next man to ride up covered her in shadow and she slowly cast a glance towards the man that had not even mounted his horse yet but even then he stood at nine or ten feet tall. The man was the Hound, Ser Sandor Clegane's brother. _The Mountain,_ Boudicca thought. Of all the men in Westeros, there was no man she despised more than Gregor Clegane. It brought a shiver to her spine every time she looked at him. It proved that sometimes, sometimes monsters wore human faces. _The Mountain. The Hells would spit him out,_ Boudicca remarked to herself but she was pulled out of her thoughts by a voice.

"A small gift for the Princess," The bearded man said as he presented her with a book. "Lord Stannis sends his apologises that he could not be here to wish you well on your name day, so he leaves you the legends and history of House Baratheon, in hopes that you may enjoy it as much as he did. I can't tell you for certain about the book but the paintings and drawings look interesting."

"Thank you, Ser," Boudicca replied, the brown haired man bowed his head to her as she took the book from him. "May I ask your name?"

"Davos Seaworth," He replied and watched her carefully. "I have served your uncle for many years."

"The Onion Knight," She stated with a slanted smile. "My Uncle Stannis always spoke highly of you."

"That I am," The man, Davos replies gruffly with a curt nod. "And he speaks of you as well."

"I hope that they are good things," Boudicca teases as he takes a step back with a stiff smile.

"I can assure you, they are," He tells her.

Boudicca stares at his retreating figure and watches as he climbs down the steps and rejoins the crowd, disappearing into the large crowd of people. Boudicca let her eyes trail over the book and she caressed the leather binding but she could still feel the man's eyes on the back of her head. She wondered why her uncle Stannis would leave behind a man loyal to him but she shrugged it off and opened the book, flicking through the pages. It had every member of her family and their achievements if they had any, documented in this very book. The sound of loud laughter boomed and her head snapped towards her father as he stood, she looked at the black chest that two squires were carrying and she raised a brow. _Another gift?_

"My dearest Boudicca, the Bringer of Storms!" Her father boomed. "I have gifted you many things this past year; a sword, a betrothed, a tourney and a feast. Yet I have still not given you a companion. Open the chest, on with it! This damned tourney won't start until you open this last gift. Go on!"

Although Boudicca wanted to protest, she fell silent when the chest was opened by the squires and a small head peeked out. _A cub?_ She looked on in stunned silence yet she felt an overwhelming delight at what appeared to be a lion cub. She leant down and reached for the chest, despite the protests of her mother and grabbed the cub gently lifting it from the chest. The little creature whined in fright from his new surroundings and of the noise surrounding him. She held the cub to her chest and was unable to keep the wide grin off her face. The little lion wriggled in her hold, he was completely cream save for the soft black tufts of fur around his neck. _His mane._

"It is a _wild_ beast," Her mother hissed, her voice hushed. "How dare you."

"Quiet, woman!" Robert snapped as he leant back on his throne and downed his wine but she found herself paying him nor her mother any mind. "It is her gift from me! You got her that dress! Now, on with the damn tourney! I want to see some fighting!"

 _We are the lions,_ Boudicca thought as she stroked the lion's pelt in fascination as he stilled. _In a world of lambs._ She looked down at the cub with a small, hearing horn sound indicating that the tourney had begun. The tourney was uneventful and did not grab her attention until the Mountain was facing Ser Hugh of the Vale.

 _Bastard,_ Boudicca thought in disdain as she looked between the Mountain and Ser Hugh. Ser Hugh was a newly appointed knight that had once been Jon Arryn's squire, she had talked to him a few times and as a child when Jon Arryn's back was turned he slipped her some caramels. The man was his squire for four years and his dream of becoming a knight always amused her. Although Boudicca did not know the man very well other than his small acts of kindness to her, she still held worry for him. _Who made his helm? To go against the Mountain with a bare neck and jaw is suicide. He would have a better chance against the Stone men._

Her fears became true on the second pass. The Mountain charged at Ser Hugh upon his black stallion, he drove his lance into Ser Hugh's neck. She watched as Ser Hugh flew from his horse and fell to the ground. The blood from the deep wound flew towards them and she gasped, abruptly standing when she took in the blood that covered her.

" _Bastard_ ," Boudicca murmured as she held the lion cub closer to her chest.

Boudicca knew that the Mountain had every intention to kill the young man, knighted before his time. It angered her that no matter what crimes he committed, he has never suffered. He was a bastard and deserves a fate worse than death. Her lion as if sensing her discomfort and anger, began to hiss and she watched his eyes narrow. Boudicca instinctively began to run a knuckle down his fur, stroking his mane as she cradled him in her arms. Her mother rose from her seat and approached her with a handmaiden, who began to frantically dab at the blood that managed to cover her with a cloth.

 _You will die someday,_ Boudicca promised. _After all, every mountain can crumble._

Boudicca collected what little gifts she had and left the stands, her mood having been soured by the unlawful death she had just witnessed. She bid her father and mother goodbye as she made her way down the steps. She still felt the Onion Knight's eyes on her but as she turned to face him in the crowd of people, he was gone.

* * *

Arya Stark

 _I am no boy. I am no girl. I am a sword._

Arya repeated the mantra in her mind, recalling the words her dancing master said as she chased the black cat through the Red Keep. The dancing master, Syrio Forel had sent her to chase and capture all of the cats in the castle. One by one Arya had caught them and presented them to Syrio, all except this one she was tailing. That black cat. This cat was the greatest of the cats. It was the oldest, the meanest and by far the smartest. All the cats she had captured were either too fat to move, too stupid or too lazy.

Arya followed him through the entire castle until he led her to a part of the Keep she had never seen before. Although she found herself uncaring for it, she loved uncovering new places. The tunnel she was led into was dark, damp and empty. And after looking around, it took her a moment to realise she had lost the cat. Arya cursed before continuing to walk down the tunnel, hoping she would find it again but as she turned, she came face to face with a huge skull. _A dragon skull?_ Arya had heard tales that once the throne room was adorned with dragon skulls of various sorts, some were large others small but apparently King Robert had crushed the bones to dust.

Arya's mouth hung open in both awe and excitement. It was e _normous._ It was bigger than beast she has ever seen. She reached out in curiosity and let her fingers glide across the fang that was larger than her father and any of her brothers. She took in the teeth and wondered what it must have been like to ride a dragon. _Old Nan says the brave men didn't kill the dragons,_ Arya thought on one of Old Nan's many tales. _The brave men rode them instead._

As she stood there, marvelling the skull she heard voices approaching. Her head snapped towards the voices in fright as she saw torchlight getting brighter and the shadows getting smaller. Instinctively she hid behind the dragon skull, she had a feeling that if they caught her, it would not end well. Arya let out a soft breath, poking her head out every so often to spy on the two men. She held her breath momentarily, wary that they would hear her as she took in both the men.

They were both very fat. The first man was bald and the second man was dressed in expensive clothing with many jewels and a beard that had been combed into a fork, the three parts of his beard was held by large gold beads. Arya felt as if she had seen the first man before, she recognised his voice but she could barely make out their faces but at least their voices became clearer.

"He has found the bastard. He has the book. It will not be long before he puts the pieces of the puzzle together," The bald man said.

"The question remains when he uncovers the truth, what will he do once he does?" The rich man inquired, as they strolled along the dungeon together. She held her breath, her brow furrowing as she listened carefully to every word. "What will he do when he discovers the truth about _her._ What then?"

"I know not, the situation is no longer under my control. The lions have tried to kill his son _twice_. The fools," The bald man replied before letting out a long, heavy and sorrowful sigh. "The Bringer of Storms is in danger, she has no incline of how much power she truly has and they fear the day she will come to discover it. Especially if Lord Stark has his way. He will not hesitate to tell her. The wolf and the lion will soon enough be at each other's throats. A war is on the rise, my friend."

"It is too soon," The rich man grimly tells him. "You must find a way to throw him off the scent. You have to stall for time. We are not ready for war."

"Do you take me for some sort of wizard?" The bald man laughed. "What would you have me do? Kill the second Hand?"

"You may not be a wizard but you seem to rub your hands together and things happen, for that, I envy you," The rich man chuckled. "And yes, why not? If one hand can die, why not the second? That would benefit all of us."

"Madness," The bald man breathed, shaking his head. "The death of Lord Arryn has set everything in motion, too many things have occurred. Too many for my liking and comfort. Lord Stannis Baratheon has fled to Dragonstone, while Lysa Arryn has fled to the Eyrie. Lord Stannis knows, he has found out the truth about Boudicca, that is why he left his Onion Knight. To send reports on the girl. Lord Renly and Ser Loras are scheming to usurp the Queen. I was informed that they asked Eddard if Lady Margaery looked like the late Lyanna. Then there is Littlefinger, the greatest player of all, for all my spies and cunning, I cannot figure out what his plan is. But, I suppose he is something to worry about at a different point in time. It is the Stark's and the Lannister's that worry me more than the rest of them. He now has Boudicca, the bastard and the book and soon he will find out the truth. We do not have time."

"We _need_ time," The rich man replies, a franticness in his voice. "Daenerys Targaryen is with child, Khal Drogo will not make a move to sail across the Narrow Sea to invade Westeros until his son is born. You know how those savages are."

"King Robert wants her and her child dead," The bald man hums. "He will most likely summon his daughter to the Small Council. If she is wise, she will prevent him from sending the assassins. The girl is a tactician. This is no longer a two player game."

"It never was my friend," The second man told him softly.

Arya slipped on a stone at the mentioning of her father and Boudicca but her tight hold on the tooth prevented her from falling. She remained still as a statue, frowning in confusion towards the two, strange fat men. She could not make sense of why they were talking about her father and Boudicca. _What will he find out? What will he tell her?_ It was clear that they were speaking of treason and that her father and the Princess were in danger. _I must warn them!_

"What will be our next move?" The bearded man asked.

"Let me do what I do best. In the meantime, I will keep our storm at bay. We must make plans to have her take the crown, be it willingly or not," The bald man said. "It is the only way or us to get what we seek, return to Pentos. I will report back when I figure out our next move, my friend."

 _Take the crown?_ Arya thought with a frown. Her worry turned to fear as the two men turned to leave, she watched as the bald man approaches a dark passageway. Her eyes widen in the realisation that, that is her only way out. The bald man locks the gate behind him before they disappeared into the shadows. Arya reappeared from behind the tooth and ran for the gate, she looks down at the lock and rattles it, grasping it with both hands and pulls harshly at it, in an attempt to free herself from the dungeons.

Arya takes off in another direction, entering a tunnel, heading deeper into the dungeon. After a while, she came across two pathways and with little options or time, Arya chose the left hand path and prayed that it was the right decision to make. She walked for what seemed like hours, the only noise was her laboured breath and her feet splashing against the water. Arya let out a sigh of relief when she saw the end of the tunnel along with the light of day.

Arya's eyes widened when she realised that she was no longer in the castle nor the city and instead was at the beach of Blackwater Bay. And as she emerged from the tunnel, frightening the gulls, she saw the harbour. As fast as her legs could manage, Arya scrambled up the rocky and made her way towards the city gates. _I need to warm them, I need to warm!_

 _They are plotting against my family,_ Arya thought in horror. Her heart was pounding within her chest and she continued running, pushing herself faster and weaving her way through the crowds of people. _According to these men, they are going to do something involving my father and Boudicca. My family are the wolves and the lions, the lions must be the Lannister's! I have to warn them, both of them before it's too late._ Arya slowed down when she came to the gate but was halted by two guards.

"Off with you, beggar!" The first guard commanded with a sneer.

"I am no beggar," Arya retorted. "I live here."

"Did you not hear what I said?" The guard asked, stepping forward. "How about I give you a smack to help you with your hearing? Off with you!"

"I want to see the Princess," She said firmly but the second guard merely laughed. "I want to see my father."

"And I want to fuck the Princess, yet that wouldn't do me any good, would it?" The second guard leered.

"You want your father, boy?" The first guard questioned. "I'll tell you where he is. He is at the tavern, pissed with a whore in his arms."

"I am not a boy, my father is the Hand of the King!" Arya proclaimed fiercely. "I am Arya Stark of Winterfell. If you lay a hand on me, your heads will be on spikes above the city! Now, are you going to let me through or do I need to give you smack to help with your hearing?"

* * *

Boudicca Baratheon

 _Does trouble find Arya or does Arya find trouble?_ Boudicca thought with a chuckle. Lord Stark had half of his household guard searching the city for his youngest daughter, who seemed to disappear. It was not until midday that they had found her wandering the city, according to her little sister. Lord Stark had chastised her before sending her own her way, confining her to her chambers.

Boudicca now sat at her table, sipping her wine and read the book that was given to her for her name day. The founder of House Baratheon and the legend behind him had interested her greatly. As she turned the page, a knock sounded causing her to look to the door with a raised brow. Boudicca set her cub that she had named Orion down on the floor. He bounced and rolled around her feet as she stood up and walked towards the door. Upon opening the door to her chambers, she found Arya, standing at the doorway with a look of fear and panic in her eyes.

"Arya?" Boudicca began, tilting her head to the side. "What are you doing here?"

"It's important," Arya replied urgently. "Father won't listen. I have to tell you something…something I heard."

"Come in," Boudicca said, ushering the girl quickly in and shut the door behind the girl. She studied the girl for a moment before she gestured for her to take a seat on her bed. She brought Orion up to her side and placed him on her lap, stroking his fur as she stared intensely at the grey eyed girl. "Now, tell me. What did you hear?"

Boudicca looked on at Arya as the girl began to speak, her face slowly contorting into one of horror. Arya told her about how she was chasing a cat and about how she discovered the dungeons and the catacombs, going by the description of the skull she found. Then she told her of the two men and everything that she had heard. The plots. Boudicca listened intently to the girl's story and with every word, her interest grew. _These men know me._

"The two men-" Boudicca began firmly. "Can you describe them to me?"

"They were both fat," Arya said, her brows etching together before quickly stating. "They said that Lord Renly wants to usurp the Queen."

Boudicca stilled, her expression darkened considerably. _I always knew that Renly was ambitious,_ she thought fiercely as she clenched her hands together and thought of her mother. _This time, he has gone too far, I will never let him harm my mother,_ Boudicca thought once more and leant her back on one of the wooden posts on her bed and closed her eyes, taking in a deep breath. _Never_.

"Is there," Boudicca hesitated. "Is there anything else I need to know?"

"They said something about a savage and a Targaryen," Arya continued with a firm nod. "They mentioned your father."

"You should head back to your chambers, Arya," Boudicca decided after a long moment of tense and dreadful silence. "You should get something to eat and get your rest. I am sure your dancing master will have more lessons for you, perhaps you will one day best me in a duel. Besides, I'd rather not have your father catch you."

"In…In a duel?" Arya asked slowly, the realisation quickly dawned on her face as it turned into an excited one. " _Really?"_

"Of course," Boudicca replied with a slanted smile. "I will dance in the storm while you will dance in the water. It would be an honour."

Boudicca bid Arya a goodbye, leading her towards the door, the words of the girl left her troubled but as she opened it, she was face to face with a servant. She cocked a brow as the servant briskly walked forward and bowed. Boudicca waved off the courtesy dismissively and faced them with a tired and agitated look. _Were they spying?_ Boudicca thought and eyed them with a glare.

"Many pardons, Princess Boudicca," He said. "Your father is requesting your presence in the Small Council Chamber."

"The King makes no requests," Boudicca told him. "He makes commands."

" _Immediately,_ the King says," The servant informed her.


	10. Chapter Nine

_King's Landing_

Boudicca Baratheon

Boudicca hurriedly made her way to the chambers were the Small Council was gathered. It was unusual for her father to call her down. She stepped into the room and there at the long table sat the entire Small Council with the exception of her Uncle Stannis, as her eyes trailed towards the empty chair where he usually sat. She raised her brows in surprise, it was also unusual to see her father sitting there as he rarely attended meetings or gatherings according to her to her uncle's.

 _It must be important,_ Boudicca thought. Her green eyes were trained on her father but she briefly looked to Eddard Stark and saw a look of anger on his face and by the look of it, she had missed a heated argument. Her brows furrowed when she noted the cane that Lord Stark was carrying, raising a brow to it before she turned to look at Ser Barristan, who also held a dark look on his face. Her eyes trailed back to her father and she bowed low before stepping forward, catching a glimpse of the map on the table as she did so. _Westeros and Essos._

"You summoned me, father?"

"Yes, daughter!" Her father spits, throwing a glare towards Lord Stark and nodded to him. "I want you to talk some sense into this honourable fool!"

"It depends on what this is all about…" Boudicca trailed off, straightening her back as she clasped her hands behind her back.

"The Targaryen whore is pregnant," Robert sneers.

"And?" Boudicca inquires, stressing out the word. "If Daenerys Targaryen is pregnant, like you say. Why not leave her be?"

"We must do something about her!" Robert thunders, slamming his hand down on the table before he turned to Lord Stark. "I warned you, I warned you that this would happen. You wouldn't hear it. Well, hear it now. I want them dead. I want the mother dead. I want the child dead. I want that fool, Viserys dead as well. I want the three of them dead!"

"And how do you intend to do that," She questions, though she already knew the answer. _Assassins,_ Boudicca thought. _Like Arya said._

"Your father intends to send an assassin to kill the girl," Lord Stark cut it, his eyes narrowing at her father. "I have been trying to convince him not go through with it but Ser Barristan and I are alone on this matter. Please, Princess, talk some sense into him.".

"You're an arse," Boudicca said to her father simply. "It's a cruel idea."

As she looked around the table, everyone was in a stunned silence. Lord Baelish and Varys, Grand Maester Pycelle looked to her in disbelief. Her uncle, however, looked amused and was laughing silently behind his hand that he was biting into. Lord Eddard looked surprised by her bluntness, his eyebrows raised. At first, she was hesitant and wanted to agree with her father but she knew it was the right decision she should stick with when she saw Selmy give her an approving nod. Though she also braced herself when she saw her father's eyes narrow at her.

"Of all the people…" Robert trailed off, muttering something incoherent under his breath before he sighed and looked to her. "You have lost your sense, girl. We need to be rid of the Targaryen's. All of the dragon spawn scum. If not, they will worm their way back to Westeros and take the throne from me. Targaryen's. I may have cut one dragon head off but two still remain."

"We should have had Viserys and Daenerys Targaryen killed years ago," Uncle Renly interjected but she scoffed.

"I think…I think there has been too much blood spilt in Westeros," Boudicca replied solemnly but she looked at her father in disbelief. "To _kill_ an unborn babe and a child just because they share the same blood as the Mad King. That is no reason to kill innocence. Viserys and Daenerys reside across the Narrow Sea, they have so for over ten and six years. If they had any desire to come back and rebel, they would have done so. If Viserys was wise, he would have managed to gain an army and boats years ago. Or they would have sought refuge with House Martell or Tyrell. Let them live. Leave them be. To kill a child that is pregnant…then you are not the man I know of. I will have no respect for you."

"You will dishonour yourself if you do this," Lord Stark warned, his voice wavering from anger.

"Honour?" Her father roared, standing abruptly from his seat, knocking it over. His wine goblet clattered on the table and rolled onto the floor, spilling the red liquid. "I have Seven Kingdoms to rule! One King, Seven Kingdoms! Do you think that it is honour and justice that keeps the peace? No, it is fear, fear and blood!"

"You sound like the Mad King," Lord Stark responded sharply.

"Careful, Ned!" Robert hissed. "Careful."

"You are _no_ better than a Targaryen," Boudicca snarled furiously. "Are we Baratheon's? Or are we Targaryen's? They once thought they could rule through fear and blood after they lost their dragon fire. And look where that has brought them, father, in the end, look where that has got them. They are exiled and near extinction. If you are looking for an enemy to fight, perhaps you should look _closer_ to home."

 _I made my move,_ Boudicca thought as she saw the flicker of fear appear on Renly's face and the panic behind his blue eyes. She knew then that Arya's claims that these mysterious men made were true, causing her anger to flare. Nevertheless, she was glad that she managed to catch him out, allowing her to be one step ahead of him. _I have you now. Your move._

"I understand your discomfort, my Princess. I really do," Lord Varys spoke up and she turned to him. "You must understand that sometimes we must do vile things for the good of the realm. Should the gods grant Daenerys Targaryen a son, the realm will surely bleed."

"And what if I have a child?" Boudicca challenged, placing a hand on her stomach as she looked to her father. "What if _I_ have a son?"

"That is not the same thing-" Robert began but she interrupted him.

"It is exactly the same," Boudicca argued. "What if I birthed a son? What if I decided that I wanted to give him the throne, what then? I could rally up enough men to overthrow you and Joffrey. After all, my son would have some claim to the Iron Throne. Would the realms still bleed the same? Tell me. I desire to know if they would."

"I bear the girl no ill will but what if the Dothraki invade, what if they reach Westeros? How many innocents will die?" Pycelle asked slowly, leaning forward in his seat. "Is it not wiser, kinder even that the girl and the babe die now so that millions may live?"

"You see, Princess…when you find yourself in bed with an ugly woman," Littlefinger began, causing her to roll her eyes. "Is it not best to closer your eyes and get it over with. And after it is down, cut her throat and be done with it."

"What if you anger her husband, Khal Drogo?" Boudicca taunted, taking a step closer. "The man has no reason nor desire to come here. If you were to murder the Targaryen girl along with his son, he will have nothing left to lose. He may very well obtain ships and sail here to avenge both his wife and child. And what if the assassin you send fails? You will have a very angered and slighted Khal at his vengeful and _living_ Khaleesi's side. If the tables were turned and they sent an assassin to kill my siblings, mother or even you, I would _hunt_ them to the ends of the earth."

"I...I had not considered that" Robert said tiredly, slumping in his chair as he looked to her. "What do we do then?" Robert demanded, slamming a fist on the table, causing it to shake. "Do nothing until the enemy is knocking on her door? Do nothing until the Targaryen's have overthrown me with their army of savages?"

"I think _patience_ is your best tactic, my King," Boudicca said, shaking her head as she let her eyes and finger trail across the map of Essos where Vaes Dothrak was situated. "I suggest you leave Viserys and Daenerys Targaryen alone, for the time being, have them observed and find out what they plan to do and then let _them_ make the first move. I find that the better player lets their opponent move their pawn first, the first to make a move tends to make the first mistake."

"And what if they decide to invade, what then?" Robert asked gruffly.

"Viserys Targaryen may have gifted them his sister as a bride but I doubt they will give him an army in return. 'His' army belongs to the Khal and the Targaryen girl if he so desires it. They are known as Dothraki Screamers. They will need ships if they want to get across the Narrow Sea. They will need at least five hundred ships for their men alone, not including the ships for their horse. They won't have one without the other. The Dothraki cannot live without their stallions or mares," Boudicca stated, trailing her finger across the Vaes Dothrak to King's Landing and as she spoke of strategy, it felt _natural._ "That would take them up to at least nine hundred or so ships, filled with tens of thousands of sea sick and weakened Dothraki. I doubt any of the Free Cities will be willing to hand over precious resources to help a beggar King and his lost cause. We have six hundred warships, if they do set sail for King's Landing, we will storm their ships and will send the bastards that dared to wage war against us to their watery graves."

"The Narrow Sea lies between us, Robert," Lord Stark told him. "I will fear the day the Dothraki teach their horses to ride on the _poisoned_ water."

Boudicca looked up from the map to the council and was once again met with a tense silence after Lord Stark had spoken. Her father gave up letting out a gruff grunt as he slammed his fist once again on the table, this time, it caused the wine pitcher to spill. He rose to his feet, his narrowed and seething eyes meeting her own and pointed his large finger towards her.

"You talk a good talk, daughter. We will do it your way," Her father informed her. "And we will leave them be, for now. Be warned girl, if they do come to Westeros and if there is a war, it will be on your shoulders. And yours alone. I will have you thrown onto one of the warships and _you_ will be leading us against the savages."

"So be it," Boudicca replied, sealing her fate and with that, she bowed and walked away with a heavy heart.

* * *

Eddard Stark

It has been a few good hours since the Eddard had left the Small Council chambers and he was in deep thought, he was in shock had unfolded. In truth, when Robert called his daughter to the council to hear her opinion, the last thing he expected was for Boudicca to side with him and Ser Barristan but it was also the fact that Robert trusted her guidance. The way she spoke at the Council showed a side that he had not seen before from the girl, aside from her obvious passion for strategy. He knew the girl was fierce but he never knew for her to be a calculating individual with a thirst for it. A little further ahead of him, he saw said girl leaning over a balcony, looking out over Blackwater Bay. The sky was purple and the waves were calm, a soft breeze drifted into the marble hallway.

"Boudicca," He addressed.

This appeared to snap the girl out of her entranced state, it seemed something had a hold on her as she turned her head towards him, looking over her shoulder. His grey eyes met her green eyes that held hesitance and confliction. Ned made his towards her, the only sound heard was his boots against the ground along with his walking stick as he stood at her side. They both turned to overlook Blackwater Bay, remaining silent. After a few moments of silence, she let out a long sigh.

"Lord Stark," Boudicca said.

"I want to thank you for helping your father see reason-" Ned began but she raised a hand to stop him.

"He will wait, but for how long?" Boudicca asked grimly. "The sands of time continue, and I do not know how long Daenerys and Viserys have left before he strikes. He is not a patient man, my father. He thirsts for war, for blood, for power. And he thirsts for the extinction of House Targaryen and all those oppose him but little does he know that those who do oppose him, he calls 'adviser'."

"You seemed to put a great deal of thought into it," Eddard says.

"It is the truth," She said simply, "He asked for my counsel and I gave him my counsel."

"Has he called you to a council meeting before?" Ned asked curiously, resting his hand on the railing.

"I have been called to a meeting many a time," Boudicca admits. "Although my father may do and say foolish things, he is not an idiot. My father knows that he cannot trust any of them. I don't like this shite covered boots like they do. He tried to bring Joffrey into the meetings once or twice in an attempt to get him to learn about the ways of ruling but he hardly paid attention. He also brought Tommen last summer but my sweet brother cried to the point where he turned purple, I had to take him away from the meeting. As for Myrcella, Myrcella is not interested in politics. I think father is involving me so that I can one day serve my brother better when he becomes King…my father…my father is not long for this world."

Ned held an admiration for the girl but he also pitied her. He thought back to his sister, Lyanna and how she questioned 'why she wasn't born a boy?', and he wondered if the Princess thought the same thing as his sister once did. Had she been born a boy, she would have become King. As of late, the idea of Prince Joffrey sitting upon the Iron Throne brought a shiver of fear down his spine but then again the boy was still young, insolent and learning and he knew more than most that time can change people, Robert was a prime example of that. Although time may change people for the better, it could be also for the worst when he thought back to the madness in the boy's green eyes.

"Thank you, Boudicca," He said sincerely and that is when she turned to look at him, he noticed then in this light she had a flicker of blue in her green eyes.

"I defended you," She said fiercely before turning her back to him. "I hope that we do not have a Dothraki horde knocking at our door, Lord Stark. If we do, I won't be going to face them alone. I will be taking you with me on that warship my father will throw me on to, willingly or not. Tell me, Lord Stark…what do you think of my brother, Joffrey?"

"He is a boy," Ned said hesitantly, minding himself to be careful. After all, he was her brother. "He was born to be King."

"A King is not born, Lord Stark," Boudicca sighed. "A King is made. A King is forged. He is neither."

"I understand," He told her. "But I am sure he will learn."

"On your head be it," Boudicca said, bidding him a goodbye.

Eddard nodded and continued on his way, limping down the hallway and headed towards his chambers where his daughters would. He wanted to talk more about Arya's 'adventures', the more he heard, the more he did not like. Ned knew tension was growing between his family and the Lannister's, especially after his wife had taken Lord Tyrion to the Eyrie. He wanted his daughters safe at home, safe at Winterfell and not in a land filled with snakes.

"Father!" Arya exclaimed as he stepped into the room. "Thank the Gods, she keeps talking about her stupid wedding!"

"You must pack your things," Ned told his daughters. "I am sending you both back home when the Princess leaves."

"What?" Sansa cried, her eyes filling with tears as she stood up. "No! I will not leave my Prince!"

"Are you dying?" Arya inquired. "Is it because of your leg? Is it because of what I said? Is that why you're sending us home?"

"Arya, listen-" Ned began but was interrupted.

"Father!" Sansa wailed. "I don't want to leave. Please, don't!"

"I must," He said solemnly and looked on stiffly at Sansa as she began to cry, wailing about how much she wanted her Prince. His eyes flickered to her hip and he raised a brow. _A horn?_ It was made of ivory, he could see that but it had been blackened and around both rims had a ring of gold, that glinted under the light. He looked to the engravings on the horn, he saw twirls and patterns but it had small stags engravings on it. "Sansa, where did you get that?"

"This-" Sansa sniffed, wiping away her tears as she held out the horn to show him. "It was Boudicca's. She gave it to me."

His daughters had taken a shine to Boudicca in their own way. Sansa, for Boudicca, listens to her. And he could see the kindness present in the dark haired girl's eyes when she listened to Sansa's stories and she even told his daughter some of her own. While with Arya, Arya was the first to become fond of the dark haired girl, she once told Arya what it was like to not look or act like the rest of her siblings and that is what sold his youngest. _Along with the sword of riding horseback,_ Eddard thought.

"I know the Princess leaves for Winterfell but why can't I stay? I haven't done anything wrong! " Sansa pleaded before she directed her angered and upset outburst towards Arya, pointing at her. "It is Arya who keeps getting into trouble! Why must I be punished because of _her_?"

"I have been good!" Arya argued.

"You aren't being punished," He sighed. "I want you back at Winterfell. It is for your own safety."

"Do you think Boudicca will allow Syrio to come back with us?" Arya asked. "I am finally getting good and she promised to duel with me!"

"No one cares about your stupid dancing teacher! You can go, I can't go! I am supposed to marry Prince Joffrey. I love him and I am to marry him and be his queen and have his babies!" Sansa shouted, tears sliding down her cheeks. "He will be the greatest King that has ever ruled. A golden lion. I will give him sons and daughters with beautiful blonde hair and blue eyes!"

"I wish you wouldn't," Arya scowled, practically spitting out the words as she rose from the bed. "The lion is not his sigil, it is his mother's, you idiot. He is a stag, like his father and siblings. I can't imagine you giving birth to golden haired stags."

"You leave for Winterfell at sunrise," Ned informed them firmly. _The sooner they leave, the better._ "I want you to get your Septa and star packing your belongings."

"Please!" Sansa begged as Arya gripped her sister's wrist, tugging her towards the door.

"Get over yourself!" Arya retorted.

 _By the Gods,_ Eddard thought looking at his daughters retreating figures in shock. _The wisest words come out the mouths of babes,_ Grand Maester Pycelle's words echoed in his mind. As soon as the door closed behind his daughters after he bid them a good night, he immediately turned to his desk and rushed over, despite the aching pain that shot up his leg every time he moved and picked up the large book that Jon Arryn had been reading shortly before his death. He sat at his desk and opened the book. _The History and Lineages of the Great Houses of Westeros._ He came to the page that bore the black stag of House Baratheon and began to read urgently, muttering under his breath.

"Orys Baratheon, _black_ of hair. Axel Baratheon, _black_ of hair. Lyonel Baratheon, _black_ of hair," Ned murmured. "Steffon Baratheon, _black_ of hair. Robert Baratheon, _black_ of hair. Joffrey Baratheon… _golden_ haired…"

He looked over the words frantically and out of all the Baratheon's, none but three stood out. The first was Lord Gowen Baratheon who had married Tya Lannister, seventy or so years ago. And upon reading further, he found out that they had a single child together, the boy was documented to have black hair and green eyes but the boy had died shortly after he was born. Ned read on and found that also, thirty years before the union between Gowen and Tya that the Lord of Casterly Rock took a daughter of the Lord of Storms End as a wife. They had three children a daughter and a son. All who possessed black hair and blue eyes. He hesitantly turned the page and eyed it with a sickening revelation.

"Boudicca Baratheon," He read aloud. "… _black_ of hair…green of eye…"

 _By the Gods,_ he repeated once again as everything came to light. The death of Jon Arryn. His son's fall and Robert's bastards. All the pieces of the game had been placed and Ned finally knew the secret that would bring House Lannister to its knees. The truth was represented by a mere girl. _Boudicca is either their saviour or their demise._ He cursed the Gods, closing the book over before he sank into his seat and placed his face into his hands.

 _I must tell her the truth,_ Ned thought. _She is the rightful and only heir to the Iron Throne._


	11. Chapter Ten

_King's Landing_

Eddard Stark

Ned sat on a stone bench in the gardens of the Red Keep, the gardens overlooked the Sept. He knew of the Queen's secret and he would have to tell both Robert and Boudicca. The only thing that stopped him was his honour and he found himself cursing it too often since his arrival at King's Landing. _If I tell him, what would happen to Cersei and her children?_ After witnessing Robert's thirst for blood, his impassiveness and his determination to finally rid himself of the Targaryen's, it did not even matter to Robert that they were children.

Eddard was no longer sure of what his old friend might do upon finding out, time and drink had changed his friend. Ned wanted to, by the Gods, he wanted to believe that Robert would spare the children he once thought of as his, though Ned no longer wanted to take such a risk and waste the innocent lives of the younger golden haired children.

Ned reopened his grey eyes and his eyes landed on Cersei striding down the steps gracefully in a crimson and gold dress. _A prowling lioness,_ Eddard thought as he looked on at her, his eyes fixated firmly on her. Her golden hair spilt freely down her shoulders, like a lion's mane and her eyes that were cat-like green were narrowed into two slits. Although her beauty paled in comparison to his wife's or his daughter's, he could not deny the fact that she was beautiful.

"Why here?" Cersei asks as he stands.

"The Gods can watch over us," Ned says simply and nods towards the Sept.

"I doubt they will care too much," Cersei replied and gave him a small albeit false smile. Her hands clasp together as she nears him until they are speaking face to face. The lioness tilts her head to the side and eyes his cane with a raised brow. "You seem to be in pain. The South doesn't seem to agree with you as of late."

"I know the truth, the truth that Jon Arryn died for," Eddard replied solemnly.

"Do you, Lord Stark?" She mocked, raising an eyebrow. _I do_.

"How long have you and your brother been lovers?" He asked bluntly and he looked on as she didn't even flinch at the accusation.

"A long time," Cersei began and her lips pursed as she eyed him in disdain. "Jaime and I are more than brother and sister, we shared a womb together. We came into this world together, we _belong_ together. And whenever I am with him, I feel whole. You cannot question it. The Targaryen's wed brother and sister for centuries to keep their bloodlines pure."

"Half the Targaryen's went mad, didn't they?" Ned said, finding himself scoffing.

Her false smile vanished then and almost immediately her hand struck his cheek. His head snapped to the side, he stayed like this for a few moments to compose himself but turned back to face her, his expression remained unchanged. He stared at her intently, noticing the red bruising on her cheek but as he looked into her eyes, he saw them containing nothing but hatred and anger towards him.

"My son, Bran. He saw you with Jaime, didn't he?" Eddard accused.

"Do you love your children, Lord Stark?" Cersei asked, avoiding the question.

"I love them with all my heart," Ned replied immediately and looked on with hostility.

"No more than I love mine," Cersei retorted.

 _All of them or just Jaime's?_ He wanted to ask but decided to go against it, feeling the sting of her slap lingering on his cheek.

"And Boudicca?" Eddard inquired.

" _Boudicca,_ " Cersei repeated and her voice was barely above a whisper then before their eyes met once more and a soft frown compared to her usually heavy one was present on her face. "My eldest daughter is the only good thing that ever came out of my relationship and marriage with Robert. And she was the first thing to ever love me so… _purely,_ before she was born Robert had laid with every whore in King's Landing. And he beat me, but since I had her, Robert went with fewer women and rarely hit me, for her sake of course, not for mine. I had been so careful, so careful and yet when that storm hit the Keep and I cradled her wriggling little body for the first time. My daughter looked up at me with absolute worship. It was as if I was the only one who mattered. All I felt was love from this tiny black haired babe. She wasn't Robert's. She wasn't Jaime's. She was mine. _Mine._ Do not dare question the love I hold for my children, Lord Stark."

"What did he do? What did Robert ever do to make you hate him so much?" Ned asked. "Was there ever I time where you didn't hate?"

"I worshipped him once," Cersei seethed and her eyes burned. It looked like she was going to slap him again but she somehow managed to regain her composure. "All the girls and women in Westeros dreamed of him but he was mine by oath. I saw him on our wedding day; tall, strong and handsome with a black beard that any man would be proud of. It was one of the happiest moments of my life, but when the time came to consummate our marriage. He came to me, stinking of wine and called me _Lyanna._ Your sister was a _corpse_ and I was a _living_ girl but he loved her more than me. Now look at what he has become, a fat and violent drunkard. I cannot say I regret marrying him, after all, I would not have my first born and for that I thank him. I wear every hit with pride, knowing that my daughter will defend my honour. A mother loves nothing more than their child defending them."

Ned looked at her with nothing but pity in his eyes. _Catelyn and I love each other more than life itself,_ he thought. The love between him and his wife was strong. The Queen had been forced to marry a man who did not love her but rather, loved a ghost. And she had to live a life she did not desire to live and despite his sympathy, he had given the blonde haired woman, he knew that he must do the honourable thing. Robert was his friend. They were brothers.

"I am telling Robert. I will do so once he returns from his hunt. I will tell him everything. Cersei, for the sake of your children as well as your own life I beg you to flee. I do not want their blood on my hands. Take Joffrey, Myrcella and Tommen and flee to the Free Cities. You must be gone before he comes back. Take as many men with and I am sure your family's gold will ensure and give you a decent life. You must, wherever you go Robert's wrath will follow you. Boudicca loves you and will ensure that no harm will come to you, she will never let Robert came after you," Ned pleaded.

"If you expect me and my children to willingly go into exile, you are mistaken. No, I will not have Boudicca thrown to the wolves or left facing the wrath of Robert. The throne will go to my eldest son, Joffrey. You will have to accept that," Cersei informed him and eyed him distrustfully. "If not, you and your family will be held as traitors."

"I can never pledge my fealty nor bend the knee to a boy with a false claim," Ned admitted and sucked in a sharp breath. "The throne rightfully belongs to Boudicca by all the laws of Gods and Men."

"You could have taken the Iron Throne yourself, Eddard. You could have ruled the realm," Cersei smirked as she continued. "Jaime told me. The day King's Landing fell, you marched into the throne room and made my brother step down from the Iron Throne. All you had to do was climb up those steps and take the throne for yourself. You would have made a good King. It was a grave mistake on your part."

"I have made many mistakes in my life," He admits with a smile as he shook his head. "That is not one of them."

"Oh, but it was," Cersei breathed, her face set into a sneer. "When you play the game of thrones, you win or you die. There is no middle ground."

"Keep those silly Southern games to yourself, I want no part in them," Eddard laughed coldly.

"Goodbye, Lord Stark," She says coolly before she turns on her heel.

His grey eyes follow Cersei as she begins to walk away, he watched her retreating figure and he was about to do the same as the Queen, turning to walk away until a rather chilling thought came to his mind. Ned stilled, his brows furrowing and at this thought that made him shift uncomfortably, he turned back to the Queen.

"If you truly believe Joffrey will become King, that means the boy will go after everyone he deems an enemy. You always told him to do so," Ned asked, calling after the Queen. Queen Cersei stopped in her tracks and turned to him, her eyes smug and her lips were pulled into a cruel smile. "He will, will he not?"

"Good," Cersei leers. "It is a King's duty to destroy his enemies before they destroy him. The King is the flower and the Kingdoms are his bed and the enemies are the weeds, forever growing. If a King does not pull out those weeds, they will strangely him in his sleep."

"His enemies. It will also mean he will destroy everyone that he hates, everyone that has wronged him or slighted him," He points out. "Tell me, who is the one person who has both wronged him and holds his hate? If he becomes King, the moment that golden crown is placed on his head, he will go after _her_ first."

* * *

Boudicca Baratheon

Occasionally as she wrote her letter to Robb, she would stroke the fur of her small cub. Boudicca was wary about letting her cub leave her side, especially when she thought back to Joffrey and the spat they had earlier. In response, Orion nuzzled himself into her lap. She looked down at him, placing her quill down, having finished writing her letter and smiled widely. The lively Arya was also in her room and she decided to let the girl wander about her chambers but noticed that the girl kept eyeing the weapons on her wall as she continued her tale.

Although Boudicca knew that Arya would leave with her to Winterfell, she was deeply confused as to why Lady Sansa would be leaving with them too. It did not concern her as she knew that both the Stark girls would be far better in the loyal North than in the treacherous South. The Stark's were better off as a pack. _The lone wolf dies but the pack survives._

"I also put a pile of sheep shite in Sansa's bedding, it took her a week to find the smell!" Arya cackled causing Boudicca to roar with laughter. "I came into her room that evening when I heard her cries and saw that she had cut up the mattress and furs. She had found it. I never thought she ever would, I just made her think it was her imagination! It took two whole weeks for it be clean again. My sister had to sleep in one of the guest chambers. Though mother did scold me, as did Sansa. And the Septa had given me a whack or two, but it was worth it! The look on Sansa's face."

"Ah, that takes me back to when I was a girl!" Boudicca chuckled. "Although your jokes to Sansa were harmless and innocent, despite the smell of it. Ours were not. Joffrey and I did it with intent. If he had hurt Myrcella and Tommen, I took the liberty of hurting him or at least jesting him. Although, I did not put leeches on him while he slept or put dung in his boots. I played a much better jest on him…I played with his mind. The boy was a fool, short tempered and ugly hearted, and he still is."

"I wish you were my sister instead of Sansa," Arya said and screwed up her nose but she shot the girl a pointed look. "Myrcella can be Sansa's sister."

"I would not say such things," Boudicca warned. "One day you may not have her. You are two sides of the same coin, like my sister and I. We are night, they are day. They are water, we are fire. You and Sansa are both from the North, despite the little Southern lady that Sansa prides herself to be, you both are wolves. And if winter is truly coming like you Stark's say, then is it not better for you to be in a pack than a lone wolf?"

"I-" Arya began but was interrupted when a squire burst into the room, unannounced, startling them both.

"Yes?" Boudicca inquired agitated and stood up from her chair.

The red haired squire turned to face her, his freckled face was red as his hair. He stumbled when bowed to her while doing so he tried to regain his breath. Boudicca edged towards Arya, placing Orion in the younger girl's arms before focusing her attention fully on the frantic squire.

"A thousand apologies, my Princess," He rasped, his chest rising and falling quickly.

"No need. Now, what is it?" Boudicca demanded.

"Your father, King Robert-" The servant began, "He has been gravely injured."

At this, her eyes widened in terror and she hurried quickly to the door to her chambers, roughly shoving past the squire before she sprinted down the halls with Arya running after her with Orion bounding at her feet. Boudicca cared not for the looks she was given as she nudged harshly passed people or the whispers that reached her ears, all she cared for was getting to her father as a dread settled in her stomach.

Boudicca arrived at the King's chambers, opening the door wide, though she found that he was not alone. Her mother and younger brother, Joffrey were present as well as Lord Stark and the Grand Maester Pycelle. Her eyes landed on Ser Barristan, who gave her a sad glance before she turned to face her father and her body went numb then. There her father was, lying on his bed, his normally red face sickening grey and his grand belly covered in bandages. Though as she looked closer, even the bandages failed to hide the gaping wound in his side. She swallowed , brushing past Ser Barristan and stared at her father, watching from the door. _No, father…please…_

Her Uncle Renly was pacing across the room and she found herself watching him, left and right, right and left before her eyes met her mother who was conversing in quiet murmurs with Pycelle. And much to her surprise, Joffrey was sitting on the bed with a pained look on his face and tears in his eyes. As she entered the chambers further, all eyes turned to her.

"Boudicca," Her father rasped as she approached, she threw herself to her knees by his bedside and he reached out and placed a large hand on her cheek, that covered most of her right cheek and head. His hand was growing cold and was clammy, though most of his body was covered in sweat and she couldn't bear to look when his bleary blue eyes landed met her green.

"Father-" She said frantically, grasping at his hand on her cheek and closed her eyes, leaning into his touch. "Listen to me, you old arse, you cannot die!"

"A boar, dear girl!" He replied weakly, chuckling as he stroked her cheek with his thumb. "It was my fault, Boudicca. I drank too much wine, missed my damned mark. But I got it, girl, slashed the fucker's throat with a dagger! You could eat it at sup tonight in vengeance."

"You fool!" She cursed, tears welling up in her eyes but she kept them back, for his sake. "I hate you! You bloody, blind, drunken fool!"

"Harsh. I want the damned room cleared," Robert ordered, lifting up his head and turned to the other people present. "I want to speak with my children, my brother and Ned alone."

"Robert-" Cersei began.

" _All of you out!"_ Robert commanded. "I'm sorry, J-Joff," Her father coughed as everyone left her father's chambers besides herself, her brother, her uncle and Lord Stark. "I should've spent more time with you. I should have taught you how to be a ruler, not that I was that great a ruler. I should have taught you how to be a man. T-Tomorrow, you will become King and I pray that you will be a better ruler than I ever was. Be the King that I never was. Promise me."

"Yes, father," Joffrey replied and it took all of her strength not to lash out at him. "I promise to be a great King."

"Go," Her father said. "I do not wish for you to see this."

 _No, he won't father._ Boudicca thought grimly as she followed her brother's retreating figure as he briskly left the room but before he left their father's chambers, she could have sworn she saw tears escape his green eyes. After Joffrey had left, Robert turned to her Uncle Renly and he too, had tears well up in his eyes and he did not dare blink. He too refused to blink, in fear that the tears would escape. _Stags do not cry We do not cry._

"Brother-" Robert began solemnly. "I know that we never have and never will see eye to eye. Hells, I wasn't even the best brother. Please, Renly, I want you to make your peace with our brother. He is the only family you have left, do not let your differences tear House Baratheon apart. Stannis may not be jolly or as kind as you and I but, but he is a _good_ man. A just man. It is not worth it to resent him for such things. If you see him, tell him 'I'm sorry'."

Her uncle nodded curtly, yet she gripped onto her father's hand tighter. She saw a flicker of emotion behind Renly's pained green eyes before he spun sharply on his heel and swiftly left the room. _My father isn't even dead,_ she thought angrily and bitterly. _And they are already fighting for the throne, damn them! Damn the whole bloody lot of them! Joffrey! Renly! Stannis! They mean nothing to me!_

"Boudicca," Her father called out weakly and she turned to him again, keeping her grasp on his hand.

"Please! You _must_ fight!" She pleaded, gripping his hand. "You don't understand! You cannot die! I see a _hunger_ in their eyes!"

"All will be well, my little warrior," He said with a chuckle, his voice softer than it ever has been as he patted her cheek. " _I promise_."

"We are sitting ducks! Myrcella, Tommen, mother and I! And what of Joffrey?" Boudicca inquired panicked. "He is merely a boy! That throne will chew that boy up and spit out his bones! He isn't ready, father. Please-"

" _Enough,_ " Her father coughed before he gave her a sincere and tender look. "I doubt any father has had a better daughter than I, if they claim they do, they are talking shite. I cannot tell you enough how many times I have been proud of you, of the woman you are and the warrior that you will become. You will protect your mother and your siblings, won't you? You always have protected them, dear girl. You've done a b-bloody better job than I ever have. From the moment of your birth, w-we were so alike in appearance and in personality. Your siblings are still you, they will need your protection and guidance. You will protect them, won't you?"

"I promise father," Boudicca vowed fiercely, close to tears and gripped his hand tighter as it slackened. "I will protect my siblings. I will give them the Iron Throne that you once sat upon. I will take the lands of Westeros and beyond. I, Boudicca of House Baratheon, promise this. And if any dares to harm them, I will take an army to their door. I will kill their men where they stand and set alight their castles. I will take their lands, their women and their children and I will bring their broken banners back to my siblings and mother. This I swear before the Seven. As the heavens look down and witness it."

"That is all I needed to here, my fierce daughter," Robert said hoarsely as he let out a string of violent coughs. "My fierce little warrior, though I can hardly call you _little_ anymore, can I? "

"The bard will ensure that your memory lives on," Boudicca stated. "I will make sure your memory lives on through the fury I possess."

"My m-memory," Robert laughed, thought it looked painful to as he went into another coughing fit. "King Robert Baratheon, slain by a pig. _Ha."_

"No. I will not let them write such things. They will sing of King Robert Baratheon, the Stag that bucked the world!" Boudicca proclaimed softly, letting out a breathless laugh though she found it didn't contain any humour. It was a sad, empty laugh.

"Let me see your eyes, one last time. Will you?" Robert asked, her pained green eyes met his regretful blue ones. " _Beautiful._ Now go, go to your younger siblings and tell them of me. Tell them that I love them. Will you do that for me? I wish to speak with Ned alone."

"Despite everything that you have done, I love you. And I love you still," Boudicca said sincerely and placed a final and last kiss to his sweaty hand and turned away from her father, knowing that it will be the final glimpse she ever got of her father. She let out breathless sobs, that she contained and buried deep inside of herself as she fled from his chambers.

* * *

Boudicca slowly walked towards Tommen's chambers where Myrcella would be and during this time, she tried to find a kinder way to tell them of their father's passing. Boudicca knew that she would be fooling herself if she tried to find a kinder way. She grimaced, she never had the ability to go about things gently, even as a child, she had always been too rough. Too aggressive. All her life she had been blunt, regardless of other people. As she turned the corner, she was surprised to see Joffrey lingering at their brother's chamber door. His hand was covering his mouth and it was clear to her, that he had been crying…

Boudicca made her way hesitantly towards him and placed a hand on his right shoulder, he bristled and whirled around startled but he relaxed immediately when he saw her. She had expected him to sneer and leer at her, or look on at her in disdain but rather than do any of those things, he looked on at her with a pained and terrified face.

"Nor do I, but we all dance with death in the end," Boudicca remarked.

"I do not want father to die," Joffrey muttered and she sighed, nodding slowly. "I don't want to be King yet."

"Nor do I, but we all dance with death in the end," Boudicca remarked. "How do you reckon we should tell them?"

Boudicca was taken aback when Joffrey pulled her into his embrace, she stilled, shocked at this gesture from him she hadn't been given in years but nevertheless despite the cruelty he has shown her, he was _still_ her brother and he needed her. Boudicca returned his embrace, letting him rest his head on her shoulder. For a moment, after they finally let go, for this moment, she felt as if they were brother and sister, sister and brother. Hopefully, they could build a true relationship without torture from this. And after getting over the shock, she found her hand lingering on the handle of Tommen's chambers and eyed it hesitantly, another hand wrapped around her own and she looked to her brother with a firm look.

"Together?" Boudicca asked.

"Together," He confirmed.

Boudicca noticed their younger siblings were sitting on the bed with looks of worry. Joffrey entered first, followed by herself after she had lifted up the cub that followed her and entered the room shortly after their brother. Boudicca approached her siblings, setting down the cream coloured cub on the bed next to her blonde haired siblings. _Where is mother?_ Boudicca wondered. Their mother should be with them.

"Is it true, Icca?" Myrcella asked softly, her features concerned. "Is it true that father is injured?"

"Will he be okay?" Tommen asked but she shook her head solemnly.

"You have to be strong now, my cubs," Boudicca began and upon hearing this they erupted into tears. "You have to be strong now."

Boudicca pulled them into a tight hug, as they wrapped their arms around her and gripped onto her. And she held them, falling to her knees and rocked them back and forth until they found themselves, holding each other in a tight embrace, on the hard and cold floor. She threaded her fingers through their golden curls and pressed their foreheads together, their warm breath fanning her face, as they cried loudly.

" _F-Father can't die!_ " Myrcella protested, sobbing loudly. "He can't!"

"Icca, don't let him die!" Tommen cried as he buried his head into her hair. "Please, don't let him!"

"Our father loves us very much," Boudicca told them hoarsely, as she hushed their sobs as best she could and stared at Joffrey while she held their siblings. "All of us. The Seven will welcome him into the Heavens and if they are just, he will be hunting forevermore with our ancestors and drinking his great fill in the afterlife. And when the stars appear within the sky, he will look down upon us and wait. But until that time, I will protect you. I promise. As long as I live, nothing bad will ever happen to you. No blood will spill from your bodies. If it does, I will put whoever harms you to the sword."

 _You were wrong father. They care not for us,_ Boudicca thought angrily as she held her siblings close and looked over at the small iron statues of the Seven on Tommen's bookstand. Her eyes narrowed as she held her sobbing sibling's closer and rocked them back and forth, hushing them but that wouldn't do much. _Nor shall I care for them!_


	12. Chapter Eleven

_King's Landing_

Eddard Stark

The deaths of Robert Baratheon and Jon Arryn had left an aching wound on his heavy heart. He had first lost a man, a man who was like a second father to him. And now he had lost the man that had been a brother to him, shortly afterwards. _Is it not better that they are dead?_ Ned asked himself, with furrowed brows. _The world can hurt them no longer. They will be at peace._ Ned was conflicted, with their deaths, it had left him in a much more dangerous situation. In Ned's last conversation with Robert, he had him write down his last will and testament. In the will, Robert had named him Lord Reagent, Protector of the Realm until Joffrey came of age. However he wrote, 'my trueborn heir' in place of it. By his honour and law abiding ways, he could not allow Joffrey to take the throne.

The death of his dearest friend and King had brought up more problems. The death of Robert had halted Boudicca's journey to Winterfell, therefore his daughter's were still in the capitol. _If Boudicca marries Robb,_ Ned thought gravely. _That would make him a King. That would make Bran, the Lord of Winterfell after my passing._ That posed another problem. Eddard could not find it within himself to tell his old friend the truth. The knowledge that he withheld would have only added to the prolonged agony that Robert was feeling, as he moaned for _Lyanna_ in his pain and delirium. Ned kept silent, if only for his sake and what little peace of mind he had left. And he supposed he also kept silent for Boudicca's sake.

 _This is her title,_ Ned thought. _Her birthright._

The death of Robert also meant that Cersei would finally get what she had wanted, she wanted to secure Joffrey's position on the Iron Throne. As of now, Cersei was in the mindset that she had won but in reality, she was far from it. He would not let her win. By the Gods, he would not let her. _I see a hunger in their eyes,_ he recalled Boudicca's words as she cried to father. His brow furrowed and it seemed she was right, the Queen was not the only one to make plans as Lord Renly entered his chambers. He straightened up, looking up from his letter to Lord Stannis and eyed the man with suspicion.

"Lord Stark," Renly greeted and approached his desk. "May I have a moment of your time?"

"What can I do for you?" Ned asked, looking upon the man with hesitance. "I have a lot to do, in little time."

"My brother named you the Protector of the Realm, did he not?" Lord Renly inquired immediately. "I know he did."

 _It is my duty,_ Ned thought solemnly as he nodded. In truth, he was not pleased about being named Protector of the Realm. Yet he would do so without complaint. He would do anything to keep the Lannister's from taking the throne, especially after everything that they have done to his family. He would not allow them to take Boudicca's birthright from her. _I will always do my duty._ The boy was a monster and he knew that if Joffrey was to be seated on the throne, dark days would surely follow it.

"It does not matter either way to Cersei," Renly began. "If you give me time, an hour or so, I can put one hundred swords at your command."

"What am I supposed to do with these swords?" Eddard questioned, looking up at the blue eyed man.

" _Strike_ ," Renly urged firmly. "You should do so tonight, while the castle sleeps. Davos Seaworth, he intends to steal Boudicca away in the dead of night and take her to Dragonstone, to Stannis. On this night, that will make the castle vulnerable, the guards will be hunting her and her captor down. I doubt Cersei will stop until she obtains her daughter, she would burn the entire world to get her back. We will be able to get the children and Joffrey away from the Queen and into our custody. Whether you are the Protector of the Realm or not, he who holds the King holds the Kingdom. We cannot delay, Lord Stark. We mustn't."

 _I could use those swords,_ Ned remarked to himself and rubbed his chin in thought, though going by the hidden intent he saw in Renly's eyes, he shook his head after a moment of tense silence. The plot Renly had come up with was against everything that he stood for. And it would dishonour his friend. His friend's body was not even cold and Renly was already making plans. _No, no I will not do that to him. I will not do that to his memory._

"No," Ned answered coldly. "I will not dishonour Robert, by shedding blood and dragging frightened children from their beds. I will not allow that to happen."

"What?" Renly snapped, looking on at him in disbelief. "If we do not act now, Lord Stark, it will be too late for us. The boy is a monster and a bastard. What? You didn't think I knew that secret about the Lannister's. I have spies of my own. It seems everyone knows except Tywin, himself. The boy has no _true_ to the Iron Throne. If the Lannister's take the throne, everyone we care about will suffer. Including the small folk."

"And what of Boudicca?" Eddard inquired gruffly. "What of your true born niece?"

"What of the girl?" Renly asked impassively. "Boudicca. She will be at Dragonstone with Stannis. No doubt, he will use her for his supposed claim."

"By law and by right," Ned informed him, leaning forward in his seat to stare at the dark haired man. "Boudicca is the rightful ruler and heir to the Iron Throne and Westeros. She is Robert Baratheon's heir. By the law of succession, it is her throne by right. Our King commanded upon his death bed that he wanted his heir to sit on the throne, not some successor but an _heir_. If you have or held any love for your brother and your niece, you will not do this."

"Boudicca is merely a little _girl._ A woman. The girl is like her father, what would she know about ruling a Kingdom? She is _no_ King. This isn't about an heir, I may be a successor but people will take to me far more than _her._ I know that you and my brother may side with her but I will not. I will never side with her. Tell me; do you think an inexperienced, impulsive, crude _child_ would be capable of ruling a Kingdom? If so, you are a fool. Think about it. What will be best for the Kingdom? What will be best for the people we will rule?" Lord Renly retorted, before he puffed up his chest and raised his chin and nose high in the air. "She is no King. _I am._ "

"I may not know Boudicca as much as I would like to but it seems I know a lot more about her than you do. The girl may be a child in your eyes and may not know much of ruling as she does fighting," Eddard informed him sharply, placing his quill down as he looked Lord Renly in the eye. "But I will be _damned_ if I do not help her obtain her birthright. And as for being inexperienced, perhaps you should take a look at yourself first. You are right, she is no _King_ but she is a _Queen._ Are you really afraid of a girl?"

"You are only saying this because she is to marry _your_ son," Renly snarls.

Renly's eyes narrow as Ned merely lifts a brow, eyeing him and with that, the Lord of Storm's End stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him. Eddard sunk into his chair, rubbing his face tiredly and looked back down at the letter he was almost finished writing to Lord Stannis, informing him of Robert's death and the truth that Jon Arryn died for. He picked up his quill and dipped it into the black pot before continuing to write to the Lord of Dragonstone.

It seems that Lord Renly was not the only one who had schemes and conspiracies to share with him. As he placed his quill down, shortly after finishing and sealing his letter addressed to Lord Stannis, the door slowly opened. Ned looked up and saw Petyr Baelish slyly slide into the room through a small gap in the door. The man bowed, giving him a lecherous smirk and he sat up straighter, looking on in hidden disdain. _A snake in both words and movement._

"My Lord Protector," Littlefinger mocked.

"Joffrey, Tommen nor Myrcella are Robert's trueborn children," Ned admits with a sigh. "They are Jaime's bastards."

"And now that the King is dead…" Lord Baelish trails off.

"The throne will pass to his trueborn daughter and only heir, Princess Boudicca," Ned informed him.

"Yes," Littlefinger agreed, a smirk crawling onto his face. "So it would seem."

"And what is that supposed to mean?" He asked.

"If we were to put his daughter on the throne, the realm will surely bleed," Littlefinger said.

"There is no 'if'," Eddard informs him sharply. "She is the rightful heir."

"And the girl cannot take her rightful place on the throne without your help," Lord Baelish tell him. The man approaches him to the point where he was standing too close to him for comfort. He already hated the fact that the man was conversing with him, much less standing beside him at his desk. "If you are wise, you would deny her of it and make sure that Joffrey sits upon the throne."

"You have no shred of honour!" Eddard spat, shaking his head.

"I can assure you, I have no ill bearing towards you or the girl. You are the Protector of the Realm and Hand of the King," Littlefinger responds. "You hold the power. _You_ need to take it. I suggest you make your peace with the Lannister's, thus no civil war will break out in Westeros. You see, you do not understand what will happen if Boudicca tries to overthrow Joffrey. Do you know what will happen?"

"You said it yourself," Ned nodded curtly. _"_ A battle."

"No. It will not be just _a_ battle," Littlefinger disagrees. "It will be _a_ war, Lord Stark. You and I both do not want a war. The Stormlands and their Lords, they w _hisper_ her name. They whisper of their Bringer of Storms. They thirst for a war. A true ruler. We want peace. We do not want war. We seat Joffrey on the Iron Throne and crown him King of Westeros. If he causes problems and proves himself an _obstacle_ , we simply will reveal the dirty little secret and seat Lord Renly on the throne in his place."

"I will not agree to such things," He replied. "You are suggesting treason."

"Only if we lose, Lord Stark," Petyr Baelish hums.

"No," Ned told him coldly. "I will not go through with his."

"You are choosing Princess Boudicca and war?" Littlefinger muses, his lips quirking into a sly smile.

"Boudicca is the heir," Eddard told him curtly. "You promised my wife, Catelyn. You promised her you would help me. I hope you stay true to your word and I hope that I can trust you. I was informed by the very person you do not want on the throne, not to. Queen Cersei has knights at her command, enough to overwhelm my household guard. I will not allow my men to be slaughtered. I need the Gold Cloaks. I need more men. I understand that the City Watch is around two thousand strong. Are they not sworn to defend?"

"Ser Barristan," Littlefinger laughs. "He will no doubt raise his sword in his little prodigy's name. He cares for the girl greatly. If the Queen cries a new King's name and the Hand hails for a new Queen, who are the Gold Cloaks to protect?" A slimy smile slithers onto the man's face then and this time, he could not help but look on in disgust. "The one who _pays_ them."

* * *

 _The City Watch is in my command,_ Ned thought and sucked in a sharp breath. _Lord Renly has left the city._

Ned Stark entered the throne room with his household guard. He looked towards the blond haired boy and saw Joffrey sat upon the throne, fiddling with a blade. His eyes flickered next to the boy and next to him stood Cersei, Sandor Clegane and most if not all of the Kingsguard. He warily and hesitantly limped towards the Iron Throne. The last will and testament of Robert was held tightly in his grip, his knuckles turning white he held it that tight. Eddard took a final step forward at the foot of the throne and his grey eyes bore into Joffrey's green. The boy raised his head high, causing him to frown.

"Lord Eddard of the House Stark. You are in the presence of His Grace, Joffrey of the Houses Baratheon and Lannister, the First of his Name. King of the Andals and the First Men," The messenger proclaimed as Joffrey let a smirk appear on his face. "The Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and the Protector of the Realm.

"As my council, I command that you make the necessary arrangements for my coronation. I want to be crowned within the fortnight," Joffrey began with a sneer. _You will never wear a golden crown,_ Ned thought coldly and half heartedly listen to the boy. "Today I will accept you and my councillors oaths of fealty as well as those from the other liege Lords of Westeros. I want them all to bend the knee to me within the week or face death."

"Ser Barristan," Eddard addressed, turning to face the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard and took a step forward, holding out the letter towards the man. "No one in this room can dare question, your honour. It is the last will and testament of King Robert of the House Baratheon, First of His Name."

"It is King Robert's seal," Ser Barristan declared, after taking the letter from his hold and turned to face the Queen. " _Unbroken."_

Eddard saw the look that both Cersei and Joffrey exchanged. Then Cersei's angered eyes landed on him, although her eyes held anger, he noticed something hidden behind the anger. A fear of some sort. He then averted his gaze back to Ser Barristan, who broke the wax seal that bore the Baratheon symbol and there was a moment of silence. It seemed Ser Barristan was reading the letter before reading it out loud. Ned straightened his back, gripping his cane tighter and prepared himself for what was to come.

" _Lord Eddard of House Stark, Warden of the North and Hand of the King is herein named the Protector of the Realm_ ," Ser Barristan proclaimed loudly. " _To rule as Lord Reagent until the true born heir comes of age."_

"May I see the letter, Ser Barristan?" Cersei asked. It sounded more like a command to Ned. He watched Ser Barristan hand her the letter and as soon as she read the words, she turned to him with a raised brown and smug eyes. Her long fingers pinched the two corners of the letter and tore the letter in half and then into fourths, fifths and sixths before she impassively let the pieces of the letter drift towards the ground after she dropped them. "The Protector of the Realm? Is this meant to be your shield, Lord Stark?" The woman let out a humourless chuckle then. "A _piece_ of paper?"

"Those were the King's words," Ser Barristan protested and Ned could see he bristled where he stood.

"We have a new King now," The Queen replied dismissively. "Do you remember the counsel you offered me? Allow me to return it. I want you to bend the knee, Lord Stark. If you bend the knee, swear loyalty to my son and step down as the Hand, you will live. I swear to you, that you may live out the rest of your days in that barren, cold wasteland you call home. The betrothal between my daughter and your son will be broken once you leave."

"I will bend the knee to no one other than Boudicca," Ned answered fiercely, standing straighter than he ever has as he looked the lioness straight in the eye. "Boudicca is the rightful heir to the Iron Throne. Your son has no claim to the throne nor the crown."

" _Liar!_ " Joffrey screeched, his voice echoing across the silent hall.

 _No,_ Ned thought on with wide eyes. _What have I done?_ He asked himself, thinking on it with deep regret. Joffrey and Cersei both looked at him with rage and hatred burning in their green eyes but neither of them could match the anger that Ser Barristan was staring at him with. At first, Ned thought why Ser Selmy would be staring at him in such anger and shock until he slowly came to the realisation about what he had said. He had warned the Queen what would happen to Boudicca and now his words put the life of Robert's daughter and his son's betrothed in grave danger.

"You have condemned yourself," Cersei said in a hushed voice as Joffrey rose to his feet. "Ser Barristan. I command you, seize this _traitor_."

"No harm must come to Ser Barristan," Ned commanded as his household guards drew their swords while the Kingsguard drew theirs.

"Liar!" Joffrey screamed, pointing a shaking finger at him. "Kill him! Kill all of them! I command it!"

" _Commander_!" Eddard shouted. "Take the Queen and her children into custody. Take them to the Queen's chambers. I want them guarded."

" _Men of the Watch!"_ Ser Janos Slynt roared.

"Stay your swords!" Ned ordered. "No one needs to die."

At that moment, the Gold Cloaks turned on his men. His eyes widened and he found himself reaching for his own sword to face them as he watched painfully as his household guard dropped one by one. He made a move to turn and try to escape the throne room until he felt the edge of a thin blade press against his throat. He stilled and as he felt a breath at his ear, a sneering little voice whispered, "You were right not to trust me."

"Ser Boros, Ser Trant, Ser Lorch," Joffrey sneered and turned to the Kingsguard. "I want you to bring my sister, Boudicca to me. Ilyn Payne, I want you to make preparations. I want her punished."

"Now, Joff. Icca is your sister, there is no need-" Cersei began, her head snapping towards him in shock.

" _I am the King_!" Joffrey roars, glaring at his mother. "Now, I command you all to seize my treasonous bitch of a sister! Answer word from you mother and I will have her executed!"

"No!" Cersei protested before he gave her a harsh shove, whacking her hand away roughly.

"Are you _disobeying_ me, mother?" He hissed, pointing a finger at her. "What you have just done is punishable by death, would you like to join her?"

"No."

"Ser Moore," Joffrey leered, as Ned was dragged out of the hall by the Kingsguard. "I want my betrothed, bring her to me."

* * *

Boudicca Baratheon

"He truly is beautiful," Myrcella complimented softly as she stroked Orion's fur.

Boudicca smiled softly, looking up from her book. Boudicca looked on at Orion, her ever growing lion cub that her father had gifted her for her name day and smiled sadly, as the lion let out small purrs underneath Myrcella's gentle touch. _Appearances truly are deceiving,_ Boudicca thought as she looked to her lion cub. While he was merely the size of a cat, he would surely grow and when he did, she was unsure of what she would do with him. After bonding and naming him, she did not have the heart to abandon him to the wilderness. He would not be seasoned to survive it. _This is the last and final gift from my father, I will cherish him forever._ A series of sweet and innocent giggles drew her out of her thoughts and she stared at her little blonde haired sister and gave a small chuckle.

"As are you," Boudicca retorted, looking upon Myrcella with a smile. "You grow more beautiful each day."

"Thank you," Her green eyed sister said softly, her face reddening as she looked over her shoulder at her shyly."Though I wish I looked more like you."

"No, I wish I looked more like you-" Boudicca began but the door slammed open.

Boudicca rose to her feet immediately, her book dropping to the ground and she made her way towards Myrcella. Her eyes landed on the six Gold Cloaks storming into her room led by Ser Boros and Ser Trant, if she could ever call them that, they did not and never would deserve such titles that were given to them. They drew their swords and that is when her sister screamed loudly, picking up Orion as she ran to her. Boudicca remained silent, eyeing them carefully and coldly. Her fierce green eyes met the sneering face of Ser Lorch and held her sister tighter to her, recalling the story about Princess Rhaenys.

"On the orders of King Joffrey of the Houses Baratheon and Lannister," Ser Lorch proclaimed smugly. "The King commands your presence."

"How dare you!" Boudicca snarled, looking in shock as she clutched Myrcella to her side. "You have no right!"

"You are charged with several accounts of treason and conspiracy," Ser Trant leered.

Boudicca swore she felt her heart as she comprehended the man's worst as they roughly escorted them out of her chambers, though she let them willingly as she was too fearful of what they would do to her sister, knowing what they were capable. _Treason,_ Boudicca thought hopelessly. She let out a bitter chuckle, threading her fingers through Myrcella's blonde locks, hushing her sister's loud sobs, which quietened as they made their way towards the Red Keep.

"What's going to happen, Icca?" Myrcella hiccupped, her voice trembling. "Why are they doing this? They can't."

"I do not know," Boudicca replied, her voice low as they trailed down the flight of stairs.

"What will happen to mother and Tommen?" Her frightened sister asked.

" _I do not know_ ," She repeated. Boudicca found herself repeating it over and over again with each question Myrcella had asked her. "I do not know but what I do know is this, I will protect you until my final breath. No matter what happens. I will protect our brother, you and mother. Like I promised, father."

The grip Meryn Trant had on her arm tightened when they approached the throne room. Her eyes widened when she saw dead men being carried out of the throne room and her body grew numb when she saw the Stark sigil on their armour. Boudicca recognised a few of their faces and swallowed roughly, holding the crying Myrcella tighter when the doors to the throne room opened and she was instantly greeted with a horrific sight. It was Sansa and Ser Moore. The Kingsguard brought down his sword on the back of Sansa's knees, causing the girl to collapse to the stone ground and let a painful cry and sob. Her nostrils flared, she ripped her arm away from Trant's grip and shoved her way forward.

"You touch her again and I'll rip your head off!" Boudicca threatened.

All the heads of the court turned towards her in fear. The auburn haired girl looked over her shoulder and let out relieved sobs when her eyes landed on her as she pushed passed people fiercely. Her green eyes met her brother's green. Her brother was sat upon the Iron Throne, the golden crown of their father situated on his head and she stared at him furiously as he gifted her a menacing grin.

"Why are you doing this, you little fuck?" Boudicca roared. "Our father's body is not yet cold and you are doing this. You dishonour him! Where is Lord Eddard Stark? Where is the Hand of the King? Lady Sansa is your betrothed and you _dare_ do this to her. How about I give you a nice smack, to teach you a lesson? How _dare_ you!"

"You both need to be _taught_ a lesson, you _whore_!" Joffrey sneered, his voice cracked at the last word he stressed out.

"Taught a lesson?" Boudicca asked, her brows furrowing confusion as she looked on astonished, cocking her head to the side. Boudicca let go of her sister and approached Lady Sansa, helping her to her feet with a frown on her face. "What lesson? Lady Sansa has done _nothing_ wrong. And what have I done wrong? _Treason_ brother. How have I commented it? What treasons? Name them. I demand to know, you little bastard."

"I am your King!" Joffrey screeched. "I do as I please! She is _mine_ to torment!"

"You are nothing without that crown on your head! You call yourself King, what have you done to call yourself King? What battles have you won? What people have you liberated? What wars have you partaken in? What lands have you conquered? What laws have you decreed? You are _no_ King! I see no King, I see a little blond haired shit that has never learned. _Now_ , where is Lord Stark?" Boudicca snarled.

"To threaten a King-" Ser Meryn began but she turned to face him with a sneer.

"Shut it!" Boudicca seethed as she fully turned to him with a tilted head, taking a step towards him. "I was not threatening my brother. I do not make threats, I make promises. And I promise this, Ser Meryn if I hear any more words spewing from your mouth, I will _end_ your pathetic, snivelling existence. I will slice you in half, from balls to brain, if you have one that is."

"You are to bend the knee to your King," Ser Lorch told her.

"No," Boudicca said simply.

"Sister," Joffrey seethed and rose slowly from the throne, his eyes dark and mad. "Bend the knee."

" _I bend to no man_."

* * *

 _Father,_ she prays as they shove her harshly. _Give me judgement._

Boudicca was to publically pledge herself to Joffrey before the Great Sept of Baelor, in front of the entirety of King's Landing. No one held her all allegiance and if she were to die, she would die a good death. The day of her birth, death followed her and soon enough, it would catch up with her. Her allegiance would be to justice, she would live and die for it. If her brother wanted her to kneel but he would have to break her entire body, mind and soul before she bends to him.

 _Mother_ , she prays as her downcast eyes look up. _Give me mercy._

Her hands were bound together and she stared impassively at the crown that was slowly descending towards the Sept. The bells continued to ring, echoing painfully in her ears and she eyed the people who were staring at her bound body and dishevelled beaten figure. Ser Meryn Trant managed to land a punch to her cheek when they made a move to restrain her. They were gathered to watch her, though none cheered for her death like she had normally witnessed when it came to a beheading. It was silence. And she couldn't comprehend why.

 _Warrior,_ she prays and grits her teeth. _Give me courage._

The guards brought her forward and her eyes immediately landed on the long, large post that she would be bound to and she immediately knew what her brother intended to do to her and her eyes widened significantly in fear. It was the lashing post. Boudicca started to struggle against her bonds but all the rope did was burn her skin. Boudicca looked frantically around for her mother but found that she was nowhere in sight nor was her sister and brothers. Lady Sansa was present but Lord Stark was not and her brow furrowed. _Where is he?_ Boudicca thought. Her gaze then landed on her brother next to Ser llyn and she saw the smirk that her brother wore.

 _Crone_ , she prays and lets her eyes flutter closed. _Give me guidance._

Her brother's malicious grin widened when he saw her brought forward towards the post. _Endure_ , Jon Arryn's voice echoed in her mind. _You must endure._ Boudicca raised her head higher than she ever has as she was tugged forward towards him. No one would help her. Boudicca knew that she may be a Princess and the fairy tales, the Princess would always be rescued but this was no fairy tale. This was no story. In life, no man nor woman, no high born or low born would dare help her. The consequences would be dire if someone tried to intervene, no matter who and she felt a bitter hatred for it.

 _Smith_ , she prays and her breath quickens as she nears the post. _Give me strength._

Boudicca felt a large hand on her back as she was brought towards Joffrey and shoved against the post, she let out a breath and felt all the air leave her as the hand held her to the wooden post. Her body was concealed to the crowd by the post but her face was not and she knew they would see the pain on her face. Boudicca felt tears gather at the corners of her eyes but she kept them down. Her ankles and knees were bound to the post and her wrists were tied high above her body.

 _I am Boudicca of the Houses Baratheon and Lannister, the First of her Name and Princess of King's Landing,_ Boudicca thought to herself fiercely as Joffrey stepped in front of the post and turned to address the crowd, the crowd began to roar and cry various things but it all went unheard to her. _I am the Bringer of Storms. The blood of Robert Baratheon and Cersei Lannister flows through my veins. I am a Baratheon stag and I am a Lannister lion. I mustn't be afraid._

"Your Princess has committed a treason," Joffrey proclaimed and the noise of the crowd died down. "Allow me to show you what happens to traitors!"

" _Please!_ " Sansa cried, Boudicca closed her eyes and remained silent when she heard the girl's cries. "She hasn't done anything wrong! Please-"

At this, the crowd become unsettled once more and people began to shout out towards Joffrey. Boudicca kept her eyes closed, listening to the voices of the smallfolk of King's Landing. Most were swearing, some were begging for her release and protesting her innocence and others were defending her. It hurt yet inspired her, these people had respect for her though she knew that her brother was not merciful and she held her breath, bracing herself for the pain.

"On with it!" Joffrey sneered, no doubt turning to face Ser llyn. "I want to hear her _scream_."

"I won't," Boudicca murmured.

"You will!" Joffrey seethed.

It was silent, a tense silence. No longer was the crowd making noise, no longer could she hear the blue eyed girl's cries for her innocence and no longer could she heard the snide remarks from her brother. No bird or animal made a noise. The world was silent until…she heard it, the sound of boots echoing against the ground. Boudicca strained against the ropes, fighting fiercely against her bonds when she heard the unravelling of a whip and grimaced when she heard the leather fall to the ground. She let her head rest on the side of the wooden post and sucked in a sharp breath before she heard the crack of the whip and then she felt it.

It was a burning agony, it felt as if scorching water was thrown at her back, making her lips part into a silent scream and she screwed her eyes shut, throwing herself to the wood as the whip tore through her tunic and licked her back. Her silent scream continued when tears gathered in her eyes and some managed to escape her eyes from the pain and slide down her face, even her tears burned her cheeks.

The silence fell once more until she heard the familiar crack and more pain, her entire body was on fire and this time, she let out an agonised scream, throwing her head back as more tears fell from her eyes. Her legs buckled and if she was not tied to the post, she would have fallen to her knees then from the pain and this caused her to struggle, desperate to move away from the pain.

Then she felt the pain again…and again…and _again_. The voiceless executioner was relentless and continued to strike her and every time he did so, she continued to cry out and in the silence, she wept pathetically and let out sorrowful cries. The tears had wet her face and she could feel the wetness on her back along with the open wounds. Boudicca threw her head back and let out cries, her chest tightens and her vision was blurry when she reopened her eyes.

"It can end sister, all of this can end…" Joffrey said softly, "All you have to do is bend the knee."

Her eyes travelled to the boy, who was stood at her side and her face screwed up in disgust and her eyes were ablaze, she hacked and then spat at his feet, her spit landing on his leather boot. The crowd began to grow unsettled when Sansa's began to scream again and they began to cry out when two more lashes were given. Boudicca's mouth opened and let out a hoarse cry, collapsing against the wooden post in exhaustion. Every so often she drifted in and out of consciousness, her head lolling to the side.

"All you have to do is bend the knee," Joffrey encourages but she looks on at him weakly, her bleary eyes staring at him and her mouth parts and she sucks in a long, ragged breath. "Ah, it seems you wish to speak? Silence! I want to hear what she has to say. Speak up, I can't hear you."

" _Fuck you_!" Boudicca roared hoarsely.

"How dare you, you bitch!" Joffrey hissed.

Boudicca closed her eyes and braced herself for the eighth blow but it never came, she heard a figure stalking towards them. Although she strained her ears to listen, she couldn't make it out nor could she see as her vision was darkening. The crowd began to roar once more but this time, it was more vicious. The figure lay a hand on her cheek and she looked up weakly.

"Mother, I-" Boudicca began but felt herself drift off.

"It's alright, my sweet," Her mother's voice murmured. "It's alright."

"I…I tried to be brave," Boudicca said hoarsely as tears slid down her face. " _I-I'm not._ "

"You are," Her mother told her, her green eyes conflicted.

Boudicca felt the ropes around her wrists slacken and when the rope unravelled her hands and weakened arms immediately dropped but she held the post for dear life, digging into the wood. Her entire back was in agony and she felt her back completely wet as if they had thrown a bucket of water on her back, the moment the other person released her ankles and knees from the post, she collapsed but a pair of arms caught her. Boudicca let relieved sobs escape her lips and her agony slowly caused her to drift out of the consciousness, the last she heard was her brother roaring at her mother as the figure hoisted her up and carried her away. Her eyes fluttered upon once more and she looked up tiredly to the face of Ser Barristan.

" _Thank you_ ," Boudicca whispered before she fell into darkness.

* * *

Author's Note: Hi, hopefully you like this chapter. I know I did a major update yesterday but I've sort of become obsessed. If you have any questions, feel free to ask and I'll gladly answer them. I'd like to thank all of you for following this story and for making this one of your favourites. I'd always like to give a massive thanks to everyone that has reviewed.

 _Reviews-_

celticank: Thank you, unfortunately Ned will be dead.

RHatch89: Thank you!

jean d'arc: Thank you, hopefully you like this chapter! The game begins in a rather brutal way but she will play a major part.

Horseyperson224: Thank you, I'm glad you think so! I hope this chapter doesn't disappoint.


	13. Chapter Twelve

_King's Landing_

Boudicca Baratheon

Boudicca felt as if she was on _fire_. Her entire back was burning and the cold, cruel air of the cell nipped at the wounds on her flesh. Although her wounds had been tended to by the Grand Maester Pycelle it has done little to nothing for her as after she had woken up from losing blood and from the pain, her _dearest_ brother had her thrown into a cell, despite the protests of her mother and pleas from her younger siblings. Her mother begged her to bend the knee but she refused, she would not break. As of now, she only knew the feeling of agony and bitterness and wondered, as she drifted in and out of consciousness whether she would ever feel at peace again.

All she felt was _pain._ Her pained cries echoed a mournful song until a guard that was situated beside her cell appeared and snarled at her, ceasing her song and she began to drift once more out of consciousness, her body slumped against the damp wall. The cell reeked of piss, shite and corpses making her all the sicker. Boudicca coughed hoarsely, letting out a string of coughs before she began to sing the last verse of 'The King Without Courage', partly to keep herself sane and the other part to annoy the guard.

" _I-If only, if only the K-King had his courage…All the whores saw how he squealed when he was made fight that boar,"_ Boudicca sang bitterly and let her head rest on the black wall, waiting for the guard to tell her to shut it or he would make her. " _The King without courage was a weedy young lad, and everyone knew his death won't be too bad…"_

Her eyes suddenly landed on the cell door, her head lifting at the aggressive shouts she heard and the series of swords clashing before she heard cries of pain that were not her own. Boudicca's eyes widened and she sat further up the wall, looking on with dark eyes towards the cell. Her breath quietened, in an attempt to remain silent before she heard the sound of two bodies slumping to the stone floor. The sound of footsteps approached her cell and she prepared herself, pressing herself against the wall and waited with a baited breath.

"Onion Knight?" Boudicca asked hoarsely, her brows furrowing when she saw Davos Seaworth with a bloody sword.

"We must move with haste," The man replied and fumbled at the keys to the cell before opening the cell door wide, her brows furrowed at him.

"No," Boudicca hissed when the man walked towards her. "Why are you doing this?"

"I am doing the right thing by you," Ser Davos replied gruffly and took her by the hand. "That lad, Joffrey…he will kill you. Lord Stark has been beheaded for treason. You will follow shortly afterwards if we do not leave now."

"No! You are wrong!" She insisted, shaking her head in denial as he helped her up, her knees were shaking and buckling together but he managed to hoist her up until she was standing upright but even then she was swaying, unsure if she would fall the moment she took a step forward. _He, he cannot be dead! He isn't dead!_ Boudicca denied but deep down she knew that he was, she would be fooling herself into thinking otherwise. Her thoughts were focused on the Stark girls and she closed her eyes in pain. "Lord Stark…he was no traitor…he was never a traitor and would never have…he is among the most honourable men that I know of! H-He can't be…no… _no_."

"I will not doubt you," The Onion Knight said immediately, his voice was barely heard but she could hear the sympathy yet urgency behind it. "We must go! I need to take you away from here, let me take you away to Dragonstone. Lord Stannis awaits you."

"No-" Boudicca croaked, her downcast eyes looking up. "I cannot leave my sister and brother. Nor can I leave without the Stark girls. I will _not_ leave them."

"We will take them with us," He insisted as they left the cell. "We must leave. _Now_."

"Why have I been arrested for treason?" Boudicca demanded. Her eyes landed on the dead guard and she reached for the nearby sword and held it tightly in her grip with every move she made her back was screaming from pain, she could feel some of the larger wounds slowly reopen but she found herself focusing on taking her younger siblings and the Stark's away from King's Landing. All she could think about was letting the Onion Knight take them away. " _Why_?"

"There is many things I want to tell you," Ser Davos began with a frown and hardened eyes. "It is not fair on you but Lord Stannis wishes to tell you in person. You have been kept in the dark far too long."

Her green eyes looked hastily down the darkened part of the dungeon, the faintest shimmer of candlelight lit the path for them before she looked towards the Onion Knight and gave him a nod of confirmation. Boudicca limped down the corridor with the Onion Knight, her sword clenched in her left hand. They trailed up the marble steps, the sound of their feet and her laboured breath was the only sound she heard as she led the way towards her sibling's chambers. Boudicca knew of the risks, she knew that if they were caught, they might be killed but she would rather try and be killed than be too cowardly and let her siblings suffer. Along with the Stark children. She approached her sister's chambers with great hesitation, opening the door wide and crept in, closing the door behind herself and Ser Davos.

"They will come after us, won't they?" Boudicca murmured.

"Certain of it," The Onion Knight replied gruffly.

Her mind was screaming at her to hurry but her body was hissing at her. Her legs were aching, her back was burning and her shoulders were tense. Boudicca approached her sister, looking down at her in a softness when she saw that Orion was curled up to her chest and she caressed her sister's tear stained face with the back of her hand, rousing her awake softly. Her sister's green eyes fluttered open and she let out a loud gasp but Boudicca reached down, covering her pale pink lips with her mouth and hushed her.

"You have to be quiet alright," Boudicca informed her, letting go of her sister and helped her sit up. "You must."

"Y-You...Joffrey was so cruel," Myrcella sobbed breathlessly. "He wouldn't let me see you. He wanted to kill you."

"It's alright now," She assured her sister fiercely. "I will never leave you alone in this world, I _promise_."

"Are you like the Prince in my stories?" Her sister inquired. "That rescue the Princess."

"No," Boudicca responded truthfully. "You do not need a Prince to rescue you. You have me."

The door creaked open slowly, causing her to still and she gradually turned to face the opening door, a dread pooling in her belly. Boudicca saw two Kingsguard step into the room and they eyed both her and the Onion Knight. No sound was made. It was a few moments of tense silence before the Kingsguard drew their swords whilst removing their helms, her eyes widened at the two figures. _Ser Meryn Trant and Ser Amory Lorch_ , Boudicca thought on with cold eyes and the weak grip she had on her sword tightened.

"Myrcella," Boudicca called to her sweet sister and looked over her shoulder to the wide eyed and frightened girl. "I want you to close your eyes, do not open them until I say."

Myrcella nodded, letting her green eyes flutter close and with that Boudicca turned back to face, stepping forward until she was standing beside Ser Davos. If she were honest, she had no idea how to fight them. Her back was in more agony than it was when she was lying stiff in her cell. A wrong move or slight turn could reopen her wounds and she could not afford that. Boudicca knew that they were at a disadvantage, the Kingsguard were dressed fully in their armour while she and Ser Davos wore none.

"If you want my head-" Boudicca spat fiercely as she readied herself, bringing the sword up to her face and held it with both hands. "Come and get it!"

The knights approached them. Ser Lorch charged at her but Ser Davos took a step forward and blocked it with his sword and they began to clash. Boudicca moved as hastily as she could to the side as Ser Meryn charged for her, aiming to stick his sword in her side. Their swords met and sparks had flown from the strike, she used the upper muscles and pushed her shoulders forward to shove their swords away from her face as the sharp blades neared her.

Ser Davos and Ser Lorch continued to fight while Ser Trant made a move to strike her once more but this time, Orion leapt out of Myrcella's shaking arms and pounced at his feet, biting at his ankles as her cream coloured lion began to circle the knight, growling. Ser Trant momentarily looked down and when he was distracted, she charged at him forcefully, knocking him to the ground harshly. His head hit the corner of the table, causing him to groan loudly and he seemingly went unconscious.

As Ser Trant fell unconscious, another Kingsguard entered her sister's chambers and drew his own sword, the slicing of it as it was unsheathed made her eyes narrow when she saw the man's face. _Ser Boros._ He approached her just as she tried to regain her breath and she rolled her shoulders, trying to rid herself of the pain in her back that made her movement stiff. His ugly face looked down towards the downed knight and then his hideous features twisted into a leer as his eyes flickered up to meet her own.

"No one can save you now, Princess," Ser Boros sneered. "You're all alone. That fuck Barristan can't save you now. You've lost all your friends."

"At least I have friends," Boudicca retorted.

Boudicca and Ser Boros began to circle each other like dogs about to fight, she had seen it many a time when the Kingsguard placed bets on the hunting hounds. Her eyes briefly landed on Ser Davos and Ser Lorch as they continued to fight, their swings growing faster and fiercer. _You do not look at their feet,_ Ser Barristan's wise words echoed in her mind as they continued to circle each and she kept eye contact with the man. _Their true intentions are in their eyes._ Ser Boros lunged for her but Boudicca but she merely spun sharply on her heel, side stepping away from him to avoid the knight's hit. Although it would be harder to kill them due to their heavy armour, she had one advantage they did not. _Agility._ She swung her sword at the man's back, primarily focusing on his bare neck but the knight swung overhead, catching her sword.

Boudicca let out a hoarse cry and ducked, grasping onto the man's white cloak and in response, she pulled the man towards her and when he was close enough, she threw her head back before bringing it down sharply on his nose. Ser Boros let out a strangled and gurgled scream and she knew that his nose was broken, going by the crack she heard on the impact. He landed a harsh blow to her stomach when she had let her guard down at being satisfied by the noise and the fact that she had hurt the man and gasped, all the air in her body left then as she fell to the ground, _hard_.

Boudicca let her eyes close and she wheezed slightly, her grip slackening on her sword before she reopened her eyes as Ser Boros made his way towards her and moved to swing down, aiming for her chest but she rolled across the ground, letting out cries of agony when her back touched the ground. Boudicca looked vigorously around her sister's chambers and saw that her sister's knitting needles and wool had fallen from the table.

Her eyes trailed towards the knight and saw that his legs lacked armour like his arms, she picked up two of the long needles that were nearly the length of her arm and she brought the needles into the back of his legs, bringing the man to his knees as he let out screeches, that sounded like a dying animal. _They will have heard our screams,_ Boudicca thought. She knew that more Kingsguard would arrive soon and as he tried to get back up but to no avail, letting out hoarse cries. Just as she had done this, Ser Davos had killed Lorch, landing the final blow.

"You bitch!" Ser Boros snarled, lunging at her.

Ser Boros managed to tackle her to the ground, pinning her wrists above her head but as he did so Ser Davos approached him from behind and stabbed him in the throat, it took the man a few seconds to comprehend what happened as his wound spurted and covered her face and her upper body completely in his blood. Boudicca threw her head back and butted it with his own, raised her knees and kicked him away as he collapsed to the floor, gagging and gurgling, clutching his throat. As she stood up a sudden scream rang out causing her to turn to face Myrcella with wide eyes.

"Myrcella...It's alright," Boudicca said hoarsely. "You have to be-Ah!"

Her back seemed to lock from the pain and she let out a hoarse moan, finding herself unable to move for a few moments before she slowly recovered, clutching her back with her hands in any way she could. The frantic movements had reopened her wounds it seems as she brought her hand back to inspect the wetness and saw the blood that was her own. Boudicca wiped the blood down her tunic and turned to face Ser Davos, a look of worry etched onto her features as she let her eyes trail over his body but it seemed he was not harmed and was grateful for it.

"Are you alright?" Ser Davos asked concerned, looking over her as she limped towards him.

"I will be. You saved my life, Ser," Boudicca breathed, even though it hurt to and placed a hand on his rough cheek. "I thank you."

Boudicca looked down at Orion, who pawed at her feet and reached down to the lion cub and stroked his fur lovingly as she lifted him into her right arm and looked to Myrcella, who kept her eyes closed tight but she could see tears still escape her closed eyes. She looked down at the short sword, inspecting the blade before she slid the blade into her leather belt, securing it as best as she could. Her brows furrowed as she slowly walked, if she could call it walking and made her way towards her sister and helped her stand up from her kneeling position on the bed and cupped her cheek, brushing her thumb against her rose cheek.

"'Cella...open your eyes for me, cub," Boudicca said softly. "It's alright."

"Are the bad men dead, Icca?" She asked quietly, refusing to open her eyes. Boudicca looked to Ser Davos and nodded.

"Yes, Myrcella," Boudicca replied as she placed the cub in her sister's arms and pulled her sister close to her side. "We are safe, I promise."

"We must go, Boudicca," Davos warned.

Boudicca eyed the candles that were lit in her sister's chambers and approached them, letting go of her sister for a few moments. She impassively took two candles in her hand, the wax dripped from them and burned her hands and wrists as she walked with them towards the bedding. Boudicca looked down at the unconscious man next to the bed and sneered, dropping the candles onto the bed and watched as the flames started to crawl across the furs. _I will make him pay for what he did to me,_ Boudicca thought and watched the flames engulf the furs, they danced deadly across them.

After they left her sister's chambers, Boudicca hurried after Ser Davos and clutched Myrcella tightly to her side as they rushed to the chambers of Sansa and Arya. As they approached, the guard that was situated outside of the chambers, with his back to them, it appears he did not hear them. If he did, he made no incline to attack. Boudicca released Myrcella from her hold and withdrew her sword, creeping up beside him and wrapped her arm around his throat and slit it to the bone. Boudicca carelessly lets him drop dead to the floor as she unevenly walked towards the door and unbolted the door, entering the room abruptly.

Boudicca entered but she only found Sansa and her friends, Lady Jeyne Poole and Lady Beth Cassel. Her brows furrowed, vigorously searching for Arya as the girl's looked on at her bloody form in fright. The noise had woken the three girls as they each sat up from their beds and their features held an intense fear but as soon as they saw her, they relaxed if only slight, they still eyed her blood covered body and blood stained sword warily. Boudicca's eyes landed on Sansa.

"Boudicca!" Sansa exclaimed. "How can this be? Joffrey...he told us..."

"We do not have time," Boudicca replied sharply as the girls hurried towards her. "We are leaving King's Landing. Where is Arya?"

"I-I don't know," Sansa stammered as Myrcella entered the chambers. "S-She disappeared. T-They cannot find her."

 _If they cannot find her, then no one can,_ Boudicca thinks. It was better off that the wild wolf girl was missing, that way they could not capture nor hurt her. Arya was _free_ and soon they would be too. As the three girls packed a few things, Ser Davos dragged the body of the guard into the dark room. Boudicca eyed them intensely, as they packed what little food they had in their chambers into a small satchel and her eyes landed on Sansa who held the horn to her face before tying it to her belt.

After they packed lightly with necessities, Boudicca headed towards her brother, Tommen's chambers with the girls and her sister following close at her heels with Ser Davos at her side. It was not hard to get to her younger brother's chambers but she scoffed silently, seeing the sleeping guards that they were faced with and she made them pay dearly with their lives. Boudicca hushed Myrcella softly before opening the door to her brother's chambers and approached his bedside, she loomed over her little brother, casting a shadow and stroked his forehead softly, waking him.

"Tommen...Tommen, we have to go," Boudicca whispered urgently and shook him. "Come on, sweet boy."

"Where are we going, Icca?" Tommen asked as Ser Pounce leapt onto the bed and her brother sat up further, looking on in confusion.

"Somewhere _safe_ , brother," She replied and hoisted him up, despite her agonising pain and set him down before turning to Ser Davos.

"I will be taking you to Dragonstone," Ser Davos replied, looking at her intensely. "The boat is in the docks. He awaits you."

"No," Boudicca informed him fiercely. "We head North. To Robb Stark."

"What about Arya?" Sansa protested but Boudicca shook her head.

"Arya will make her own way to Winterfell, all roads lead North. If anyone can escape King's Landing, it is her," Boudicca said firmly. "If we are to live, we must leave. _Now."_

Boudicca sheathed her sword as they began to make their way down the hallway and into the darkness, running down the spiralling staircase. Her eyes widened when she heard the bells sound, the ringing echoing in her ears. They no doubt discovered that she was missing from her cell but she her cold, green eyes stared ahead as they ran into the dead of night. They would not find her and by the time they would, it would be already too late, she will have an army to face them and an army will be knocking on their door soon enough. The bells rang continuously as they made their way for the stables.

"Icca," Tommen began tiredly as she tugged at her sister and brother's wrists. "Where are we going?"

"To safer ground."

It was the truth, they would be safe but for how long? Boudicca knew that her mother would be desperate to get them back and she knew that her brother would want her head. He would twist the hideous truth and turn it into a beautiful life. He would claim that Boudicca was a traitor, who had made several attempts on his life and had stolen away their innocent siblings and his _loving_ betrothed. It was all based on hope and dreams that they would be safe with Robb Stark and if they were not, she would merely take her siblings and flee to the Free Cities. Boudicca did not care if her uncle wanted her at Dragonstone, he only wanted to rescue her and not her siblings, who he never cared for and she would not allow them to be near that hysterical woman. All she loved Shireen dearly, she loved her siblings more.

* * *

Cersei Lannister

The bells that she cursed roused her from her sleep along with a loud, frantic knock on the door to her chamber's causing her to wake with a start. Her lips pursed into a sneer and she eyed the door in disdain, bidding them entry and as she propped herself up on her elbows, she looked to see one of her many handmaidens enter her red and gold chambers hastily, breathing heavily and her face, pale as milk.

"What is it?" Cersei demanded irritably. _Insolent woman._

"Y-Your Grace..." The handmaiden stammered, her mouth opening and closing like a fish lacking water.

"Out with it!" Cersei snapped, raising her voice. "What is it?"

"I-It's y-your children, Your Grace," Her handmaiden stuttered, choking on her words.

It was a dread she felt when she charged immediately out of her bed, all she felt was dread as paranoia stole her thoughts away. It was in that moment that Maggy the Frog's words tormented her mind, this time, it was not only her voice she heard, she heard Lord Stark's. The handmaiden was going to continue but before she could speak any further, Cersei gave her a harsh shove out of the way and rushed for her children's chambers. Although she was dressed in her nightgown, she ignored any notion of changing into more suitable clothing despite the looks she got. It did not matter , as the servants meant little to nothing to her. Her children were all that mattered to her. If it were not for her children, she would have thrown herself from her balcony or torched the Seven Kingdoms.

Her eyes widened when she saw the smoke seeping out beneath the door of Myrcella's chambers and let out a choked noise. She approached her youngest daughter's chambers and with a shaking and hesitant hand, placed her hand on the door and pushed it open and it let out an awful creak as she did so and thick, black smoke immediately engulfed her along with the smell of burning flesh.

All her breath left her when she emerged from the smoke and entered the chambers. _Blood._ All that adorned her youngest daughter's chambers was blood. Her hand covered her mouth when she made note that Myrcella was not present and she pushed back the tears in her eyes, she tried to breathe but all she could do was let out short gasps for air. It was then she noticed three bodies lying on the floor, two of the pathetic creatures followed her orders as for the other, she did not recognise him due to his burnt body as he was nearest the bed, where the fire had started.

As she stepped further into the chambers that once smelled of honeysuckle and lilies, and stared on at the guard that was lying near the table and he seemed to be shakily getting up, she walked further toward him and pressed her foot on the back of his neck, pressing down harshly. The man let out short and heavy breaths that were laboured. After she did this until she was certain he was in agony she kneeled down beside him, lifting his head up and their eyes met. _Ser Meryn,_ Cersei thought coldly.

"Where are my children?" She demanded, her green eyes ablaze. "Where are they?"

"I...I don't know," Ser Trant answered, swallowing a mouthful of air. "G-Gone, help...the M-Maester..."

"No," Cersei whispered impassively and let out a cold laugh. "Why should I? You harmed my children."

"Y-Your Grace," Ser Meryn struggled and looked up at her with dazed eyes.

"You will get exactly what you deserve," She informed him, her voice barely above a whisper but the viciousness was still present.

"Y-Your Grace!" He stammered, struggling to sit up but he could not. "I...I was protecting the Princess Myrcella...I was following the King's command..."

"Yes," Cersei replied coldly as she grabbed him by his breastplate and pulled him close to her. "In doing so, you have made a fatal mistake, Ser Meryn."

"P-Please...no..." Ser Meryn begged.

" _No one ever harms my children,_ " Cersei hissed as she rose to her feet.

Cersei trailed out the chambers, a cruel smirk ever present on her face as she closes the door slowly behind her, savouring and listening to the man's pathetic pleas for his life but she would not let anyone come to find nor help him and when they do, he already would be dead. Cersei clasped her hands together, her eyes dark and her head held high as she listened to the screams of guards and servants alike along with them rushing down the hall frantically as the six bells rang continuously in her ears. Her smile faded then when she saw the trail of blood and heard the familiar cackle of the old crone.

* * *

 _22 Years Earlier_

 _Westernlands_

Cersei Lannister and her useless and frightful companion, Melara were making their way through the woods. Cersei had heard of a crone who went by the name Maggy the Frog, apparently she was a hideous monster. A monster she may be but she has magic and can tell fortunes. And she wanted to know her future with the Prince of Westeros, Rhaegar. After the tourney that was held, her aunt had told her of her father's plan to betroth her to him. Her dark haired companion trailed behind her, complaining and she grew annoyed, as the girl drew her from her thoughts of the purple eyed and silver haired man.

"I do not like this," Melara squeaked quietly. "My mother warned us. Anyone lecherous creature could be lurking in these woods. We should not be out here."

"Why ever not?" Cersei hummed, quirking a brow as they traipsed through the marshland, no doubt making their dresses filthy.

"Your father..." Melara began but Cersei scoffed.

"My father does not have to know. I don't intend to tell him," Cersei told her before looking over her shoulder at her with cruel eyes. "Do you? You wouldn't tell on us, would you Melara?"

"If our fathers find out..." Her companion trailed off warily but Cersei turns to her and holds her hands, looking her in the eye.

"You should not be afraid of my father," She informs her. "He will not harm us. I swear."

They continue their journey and Cersei looks ahead, noticing between the thick vegetation a small hut if she could call it that. It looked like a cave as they neared it with smoke rising from a small hole in the side. Her brow arched as she eyed the hut, noticing in disgust as some pigs trotted passed her, snorting and grunting. _A filthy hag,_ Cersei sneered inwardly to herself as they made their way towards the entrance of the hut. They both peered inside it but all they saw was darkness. No light. No movement. No noise.

"I do not think we should..." The dark haired girl said warily.

"Yes," Cersei said proudly. "We shall. I am a lion, why should I be afraid of a _frog_?"

"I do not think we should go in," Melara insisted. "After all, it is someone's home. I would not want to intrude."

"My father rules the Westernlands," She snapped. "This is my father's land. I can enter if I please."

To be certain, Cersei shoved Melara forcefully into the hut first before entering herself. If anything was to happen to them, it would happen to the little twit in front of her before it would her and would also allow her time to escape. If the ugly witch truly feasted on human flesh, it would be Melara's, she would taste. As she entered after nothing had happened to Melara, she took in a burning fire at the far end of the hut which she considered useless, as it provided little to no light for them to see but with the light that was given, she could see various plants and dead animals hanging on hooks above them causing her face to scrunch up in disgust at the smell. A sound noise was heard, causing Melara to latch onto her arm and she began to pull her to the entrance of the hut.

"Please, let's go..." Melara urged.

"Trespassers," A voice hissed causing her eyes to widen.

"We need to leave!" Melara begged. "Please, Cersei!"

"No," Cersei said. "I will not."

"I would listen to your friend, little lioness," A woman's voice drawled. "I do not take to kindly to intruders."

The fire roared with life and she turned sharply to face the figure that was moving in the corner, consumed by shadows. Cersei picked up the skirts of her dress and made her way forward towards the figure while Melara hesitantly trailed behind her. The woman was hideous. Cersei knew why Maggy was hailed the frog then as she truly was a frog with warty features, a boil or two, yellow teeth and a fat face to go with her round body along with a large protruding nose that made her eye the woman impassively and in disdain.

"You are Maggy the Frog. All the stories said that you were terrifying," Cersei drawled and looked on in boredom. "You had sharp teeth, frog eyes and a cat's tail. You are not terrifying. You truly are boring. I pray that you have not wasted my time."

"I'm sorry to disappoint," The woman rasped sarcastically. "I'd watch that tongue of yours."

"However, I know that you are a witch," She responds. "And I know that you can tell the future. Tell me mine."

"You want to know your future? How amusing," The woman quips before her yellow eyes narrow on her face. "All those who seek their future, do not wish to know it after they have heard it."

"You are residing in my land, my father's land," Cersei snapped fiercely. "I demand you tell me my future or else I will have your tongue ripped out."

"Your blood..." Maggy the Frog said as she brings out a dagger and hands her the blade. "I want a taste."

Cersei raises a brow, a pleased smirk appears on her face as she raises the knife to the finger nearest her thumb and despite Melara's protests, she pierces her finger. A hiss is drawn out between her gritted teeth as she notices the crimson liquid slide down her finger. Maggy's eyes widen in delight and she snatches her right hand and Cersei eyes the woman in disdain as the frog raises her hand to her ugly lips and starts to the suck the blood and with a final lick to her finger, she snatches her wrist back from the wretched woman's hold.

"You get three questions," Maggy informs her. "You will not like the answers, though. No one ever does."

"I am to marry the Prince-" Cersei tells her but is interrupted by Maggy as the woman scoffed at the prospect, causing her eyes to narrow dangerously.

"You won't wed the Prince," The witch simply states before leaning forward. "You will wed the _King_."

Cersei's brown furrowed and her face wrinkled up in disgust. Rhaegar Targaryen was the Crown _Prince_ , he was no King. The only King she knew of was Aerys Targaryen and the thought of marrying that decrepit, madman brought a shiver down her spine. Unless, Prince Rhaegar was to become King soon. And if she were to marry a _King_ , she would become a _Queen._ Cersei stood up straighter, raising herself higher than she ever has and lifted her chin higher.

"But," Cersei begins curiously. "I will be Queen?"

"Of course," The woman says slyly, her lips curling into a cruel smirk as she stabs the dagger into the table and leans forward, rising from her wooden chair. "You shall be Queen...for a time. Then comes another younger, _stronger_ and more beautiful, to cast you down and take everything that your pretty little self holds dear. Your gold. Your home. Your lands. Your titles. Your crown. Your _life_."

"You are wrong, _crone_. My brother and father will put whoever dares to harm to the sword," Cersei replied, her eyes ablaze before she calms down to ask her third and final question. "Will the King and I have children?"

"Oh, aye. Seven and ten for him, four for you. The three lions," The woman told her and she smiles smugly then but her smile fades when the witch continues. "They will have gold for crowns and gold, gold will be their shrouds. And when your tears have drowned you, the Valonqar shall wrap their hands around your pale white throat and choke the very life from your body. No one, not even the iron crowned stag who runs with wolves can save you from your fate. You will birth _morghon_!"

"M-Morghon?" Melara stuttered, slurring the word as she took a few hesitant steps back away from them.

" _Death!"_ The woman hissed.

Cersei had enough of the crone's scaremongering tales and snatched the dagger from the woman and slammed it down on the woman's hand. The woman screamed and shouted at them in the same foreign tongue she had spoken earlier. It seemed she was cursing her in various languages as she and the brown eyed girl fled from the tent in a hurry, desperate to leave the wretched and foul smelling hut. The yellow and hateful eyes of Maggy haunted her.

* * *

Author's Note: Hey, hopefully you like this chapter. I would like to thank all of you for reading this story, for following it and for putting it as one of your favourites. I would also like to give massive thanks to everyone that has reviewed this story and if you have any questions to do with Boudicca or this chapter or past chapters, feel free to ask.

 _Reviews-_

 _Saint River: Thanks for reviewing. Since I based Boudicca on the historical version, I wanted to add an event that happened to her and I knew it wouldn't be realistic to just let her get away with it because it is Joffrey and he would never allow someone to disobey him like that and he has hated her since childhood, so this was a perfect opportunity for him. Even though Renly had the perfect case, Ned would never listen to him. Boudicca was sixteen at the start of this story and turned seventeen a few chapters in._

 _Rampageblast: Thank you. Joffrey saw this as the perfect opportunity to hurt her like she has him, so after years of humiliation from her, once he was King, he took his chance for revenge._

 _Guest 1: Joffrey isn't very smart because now he has gained a hatred from the small folk and Tywin won't like it at all because he cares deeply about his legacy and even though he isn't a saint, he will not stand for his blood to be harmed, no matter what they have done or who they have offended, Tywin will be appearing in the next few chapters. It would have been interesting if they already were married but Robb will still be angry nonetheless, because he does care for her. In the future chapters, something along the lines of that will happen to a certain house and I will have a lot parallel's involving Boudicca and the historical one._

 _jean d'arc: There will be a lot of more bad things happening to Boudicca to come, in fact she won't really be that lucky. A good thing will happen to her and then a bad thing will shortly after. She can never fully win. Yeah, Joffrey could always borrow Visery's golden crown, I was actually re-watching the episode when Viserys died. As for Cersei, she does know her son is doing horrible things but she still holds him as her precious, golden cub._

 _RHatch89: In the next few chapters, a pov from Robb will crop up._

 _Hugo Bar Emmon: The story will be held in mainly the North, Riverlands and Stormlands with a chapter from King's Landing every now and then. I would like to thank I put some religion into the fic, I have involved the Seven often. I don't really won't to add another major oc other than small oc's, such as handmaidens or characters that Boudicca meets. Boudicca and Robb won't last long but after that, it will focus primarily on Boudicca and her rise as the Warrior Queen. The reason she would never support her brother is because she doesn't think he is capable of ruling. She has known him all her life and knows to a certain extent that the realm would bleed if he continued to rule. The reason the Westernlands won't support her is because she supports the Stark's and in the beginning, has her own claim to the throne that she will fight for._

 _Guest 2: Thank you, hopefully you like this chapter!_

 _celticank: There will be a lot of Lannister (and their supporters) asses getting handed to them soon. Unfortunately, Boudicca will be in a lot of pain for the next few chapters but by the time they get to their desired destination, it will be worth the pain. Her sister and brother will now be safe along with herself._

 _jealexandra3892: I hope you like this chapter!_


	14. Chapter Thirteen

_King's Landing_

Cersei Lannister

"I don't care what _you_ think, Ser Janos!" Joffrey seethed. "I want them found! And I want them found now!"

Cersei gave him a sidelong glance, as she and the Small Council remained silent throughout Joffrey's tantrums and demands. It has been two weeks since the disappearance of her children and the longer they were parted from her, the more her chest ached. Boudicca had stolen Myrcella and Tommen, whisking them away into the dead of night along with the little dove. Cersei lets a small sigh part from her lips, they had no way to bargain with the Northerners nor the wolves. The hostages had fled with her daughter. She looked over to Lord Baelish and Varys with a raised brow, she says that they were particularly worried about the news and she raised scoffed quietly.

"Your Grace, my men have searched the city," Ser Janos Slynt voiced. "We have found no signs of Princess Boudicca nor the Prince Tommen and Princess Myrcella."

That is because they are _not_ even in the city," Littlefinger told them with an amused look. "If you cared to look in the stables, you will find that three of our horses are missing."

"Horses? Which of the horses did she steal?" Pycelle inquired, his voice tired and strained. _As usual,_ she thought with narrowing eyes.

"The horses she took were the horses suited for jousts, very swift and very agile," Lord Varys stated, a sly smile steadily appearing on his lips as he turned to face Littlefinger with a raised brow and a smugness present in his eyes. "However, my birds have told me that before she left King's Landing, that the Princess was conversing with a whore, a whore that resides at Lord Petyr's brothel. Perhaps, you can enlighten us on why she would speak to such a woman?"

"Do you take me for a whore, Lord Varys?" Littlefinger mused, a smirk appearing on his face as he looked up from his wine. "I know not of the business my whore's conduct."

"The whore," Cersei began turning to face two Kingsguard. "I want her questioned. Find her."

"Your Grace, I suggest you send the warhorses after them," Baelish urged. "If any horse can catch them, surely they can?"

"Very well," Her son hissed and she eyed him carefully. He was still angry and muttering incoherently under his breath before he turned to Ser Janos. "I want that _bitch_ found! She has stolen our Prince and Princess! My siblings! She has stolen my betrothed and hostages! I want our best troops sent after them. Tell them, tell them that they are not to return to King's Landing until they have retrieved my older sister in chains under the pain of death!"

Ser Janos nodded and rose from his chair, he bowed to her son before he left, no doubt rushing to the royal stables. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, straightening her back as a servant handed her, her fifth wine goblet. She raised it to her lips and downed it quickly, letting the cold wind cool her burning insides. The council members were in a tense silence as Joffrey slammed his fists down on the table before sitting back on his chair, slouching. Her son sat on his chair like he sat on his throne. He had one leg over the armrest and inspected them with hooded eyes but she averted her eyes to Littlefinger when she felt his lecherous eyes on her.

"I would like to know how she managed to leave King's Landing and not a word has been breathed. How did she manage to disarm those guards? How did she even manage to get out of the Red Keep, let alone _this_ city? We have five guards dead. How did she manage to kill eight guards? _Unarmed_ ," Littlefinger questions, a hidden look in his eyes. _Is he accusing me of letting her go?_ Cersei thought furiously, her eyes darkened when she held her gaze with Littlefinger. It was clear to her that he thought it was her, the accusation was there but it was not said. _He would lose his tongue if he accused me of such things._

"I doubt the people of Flea Bottom would say anything," Lord Varys replies, resting his chin on his clasped hands. "They love their Princess. After seeing such treatment of her, hostility has arisen within this city. There are many ways to escape the castle, perhaps she found another way out of the castle?"

"That hardly matters now, does it? Why should I care how she escaped the castle? My older sister is gone! All my hostages are gone, along with my younger sister and brother! That bitch took them," Joffrey hissed and rose from his chair abruptly, knocking it to the floor along with his wine goblet causing her to grimace inwardly. He paced before turning sharply across the floor before he turned to face the Small Council and herself. His green eyes narrowed and he whispered venomously, "This meeting is _over_!"

After the council disbanded hastily, she had remained and turned to him. They were both met with silence as he continued his pacing. If she were honest, she was not sure of what exactly she should say to him. Ever since Joffrey had Boudicca whipped publically, she had found herself unable to look him in the eye. It must have been humiliating for her daughter, her daughter who prided herself on being strong, was reduced to a weeping girl in front of the entirety of King's Landing. It would not end well for her son, especially when her father caught word of what happened. Though Cersei knew for the sake of her life and the lives of her children, she had to talk to him. Her blond haired son stopped pacing and turned to look at her, a look of irritation and disdain crossing his features as she rose from her chair and slowly walked towards him.

"I told you to leave!" He snapped. "What do you want?"

"Joffrey-" Cersei began, eyeing him intensely. "I need to talk to you."

"About what?" Joffrey inquired dismissively.

"Boudicca," She answered hesitantly.

"What of the traitorous whore?" Joffrey spat, turning away from her.

"It was Lord Stark that believed those things. It was our enemies that believed those lies," Cersei replied and took a step forward, placing a hand on his shoulder. "It was not your sister, she would never believe those things. I promise. The only reason she acted so...brash...was that Icca was frightened, she always has acted this way. Your sister loves you, you hurt her so by doing this. This is not how you gain the favour of your people, Joff. I know you don't want her dead."

"I have had Ser llyn killed," He snorted, pausing for a moment. "He did not strike her hard enough."

"Joffrey-" She swallowed, squeezing his shoulder softly. "I know you do not want her dead. Please, tell me that you do not want her dead. Tell me it is not true and I will believe you, I will."

"It does not matter to me anymore," Her son sneered and turned to face her with malice in his eyes. "My sister is _my_ enemy. I will make her pay for all those years for her disrespectful, whore mouth. I shouldn't have had her whipped, I should have had her _burnt_ a the stake. Or perhaps her head should have rolled like Ned Stark's dead. And when they are returned to King's Landing, I will have Boudicca executed and I will have Myrcella and Tommen beat for their insolence. _Little cunts_."

She released her grip on his shoulder then, backing away slightly from the shock of his confession. _He did not even deny it for my sake. In fact, he was proud that he attempted to do so._ The shock of it overwhelmed her and without thinking, Cersei retracted her hand and struck him across the face. Her green eyed son let out a small cry and stumbled back into a table, his hand holding his reddened cheek. He looked at her then, his green eyes mirroring her own as disbelief etched itself onto his features.

"How could you say that about your own siblings?" She screamed, her eyes fiery. "They are your family! Your blood! Our blood!"

"Why shouldn't I?" Joffrey questioned, his eyes once again burning with anger as he stood up straighter, trying to recover from the sharp blow. "First, Boudicca stole my siblings. Then, she stole my betrothed. Now, she probably intends to marry the enemy and steal my throne. She has escaped King's Landing, stole my siblings into the dead of night and is now likely crowning herself. The ungrateful bitch! I would have given her everything! Now, now I will give her throat a red smile!"

"Your sister would _never_ have usurped you," Cersei said, her tone softer than it was a few moments ago. "A good King shows mercy, did you not hear their cries? The peasants were crying out for you to spare her, yet you did no such thing. If you had not hurt her so, she would not have run off with them. You left Boudicca no choice that night, what was she supposed to do? Was she to deteriorate and stay in her cell, waiting for you to execute her or humiliate her again?"

" _I am the King_!" Joffrey screeched, causing her to stiffen. He stepped forward until he was near her face and his voice grew lower. "You lay a hand upon your King. You know...what you have just done, is punishable by death. You will not strike me again mother, _ever_. Do you understand me? I am the King. I can do what I wish, whenever I wish. I do not care for any of you. The Kingdoms are mine and mine alone. All the people residing in my Kingdoms are mine to torment. If I wish for Boudicca to die, she will die. Regardless of what you feel, you are just my bitch of a mother. For all I know, you could be conspiring with her. To overthrow me. Now, _leave._ or I will have your eyes gouged out."

Cersei took a couple of steps back before she turned and hastily left the room, in a state of shock that her own son would say such things to her. His mother. _Boudicca would have had him thrown off a balcony for saying such things to me,_ Cersei remarked to herself, though she was still confused. She had witnessed Boudicca slap and jest Joffrey many a time, yet her son never once threatened his sister with death.

Though, as she thought about it more, she came to realise that such threats did not frighten her daughter like they should. And her thoughts came to her little Imp of a brother and her father. _No matter how many times father threatened Tyrion, the little beast still managed to smile,_ Cersei thought to herself. A part of her also wishes that Boudicca had taken her away too, thinking back to Lord Eddard Stark's last words to her. A part of her also feels strangely abandoned. Her daughter had taken her younger siblings, even the hostages but had left her in King's Landing. They could have ruled the Stormland's or could have travelled to the Westernland's and ruled there.

After thinking for a moment, Cersei headed for the royal stables and there she found several horses getting prepared for the pursuit even though they would never reach her daughter in time. She trailed towards them and approached the captain leading the pursuit, who was shouting orders to the soldiers. She neared them and when she came into their view, the captain and rest of the soldiers either knelt or bowed. _As they should,_ Cersei thought on with satisfaction and walked towards the balding man.

"Your Grace," He said gruffly as he bowed. "My men and I are yours to command."

"Good," Cersei retorted and eyed him coldly. "You are to remain in the capital. You are not to leave King's Landing."

"What?" The captain asked, confusion making its way onto his ageing features. "What of pursuing the Princess, Your Grace? I thought you would want your children back?"

"Do not tell me what I do and do not want," She snapped before recovering. "You will never catch her before she reaches the North and Riverlands. It has been two weeks since she was last sighted."

"You seem to underestimate my men and me, Your Grace, "The man said, he appeared to be insulted by this but she found herself uncaring of him.

"I will not risk it," She replied carefully. "If you should somehow reach the North or the Riverlands, you will be captured. And it will be a heavy blow for us."

"B-But the King ordered..." He trailed off but she raised her hand to silence his protests.

"The King is not yet of age," Cersei interrupted him. "I am the Queen Regent and the Queen Regent is command you. I have given you an order. You still here and defend King's Landing, is that understood?"

"Yes, Your Grace," He submitted before backing away.

Cersei had returned to her chambers after that and stood at her balcony, sipping her wine and overlooked the city as she contemplated the day's events. After a moment, she looked out to the seemingly endless blue and green of Blackwater Bay and let a heavy sigh escape passed her lips. Her hand gripped the balcony, her nails digging into the brick and for the first time since she was a girl, she found herself praying to the Seven. Although she only prayed to the Mother, the Maiden, the Crone and the Warrior, her prayers to them were the same.

 _Protect my children._

* * *

 _Riverlands_

Boudicca Baratheon

Ser Davos had informed her that Robb was residing in the Riverlands and was waging war against the Lannister's and to find a camp of over twenty thousand men was by no means a difficult task for her. The Onion Knight had a good insight on what seemed to be happening outside of the walls of King's Landing, which had proven useful yet he still did not tell her what her uncle wanted to tell her in person. He did not even let her guess. They had spent two weeks riding in the woods, she had tracked, she had hunted and she had followed the news. Until they came across the encampment of Robb.

The arms of Tommen tightened uncomfortably around her waist as they rode into the camp. Boudicca held a hidden worry as she rode further into the camp on the back of Storm, with Orion bounding at her horse's feet. She turned to face to Ser Davos warily who had Myrcella at his back, clutching onto him for dear life. Her left hand had the reins of the white mare that Sansa, Jeyne and Beth were riding on and every so often pulled the reins of the white mare to steady their ride. It was shown by the looks of pain on their faces that they were not used to riding a horse. It has shown as she and Ser Davos had to help them down after a particularly long ride.

"P-Princess Boudicca?" A soldier on duty asked, surprising and hesitance on his features before his eyes widened when they landed on the auburn haired girl. "S-Sansa Stark?"

"I am a Princess no longer, "Boudicca replied grimly. "I have brought you Lady Sansa Stark, Jeyne Poole and Beth Cassel. I request to see Lord Robb Stark. _Now_."

The sentry paled, not that she had blamed him. It was the early hours of the morning and he was confronted with three horses, a lion cub, her siblings, a man who was once a smuggler, the daughter of Lord Eddard Stark. And also herself. The soldier nodded quickly and glanced towards the camp before nodding once more as if confirming his conflicted thoughts. Her eyes narrowed and stared intently into his own watery, mud brown eyes as he leads them into the camp.

"...Follow me, I will take you to His Grace," The soldier said testily. "I...I am sorry that _that_ happened to you."

 _His Grace?_ Boudicca bristled slightly on her horse, ignoring the last comment that brought her nothing but humiliation as she and her small but important company followed the man wearing the Stark sigil. Boudicca covered her right hand over Tommen's and gripped it, using her thighs that were firmly locked onto her horse to drive them into the camp and she clicked her tongue loudly, signalling to Storm to move slower as they moved further into the crowded camp, hundreds if not thousands of eyes were on them then.

 _What has happened in the North and Riverlands?_ Boudicca thought. Sansa reached over and lay a hand on her shoulder, she realised then that even the girl was apprehensive of trailing into the camp and this camp was her own brothers. _How much have they changed? How vengeful are they? Will they kill me or my siblings on sight?_ Boudicca asked herself. She felt her younger brother still from fright and in return, she squeezed his hand even harder than the last time, to give him some form of comfort despite the eyes trained on them but nevertheless, she held her head high.

 _I am a stag. I do not cower._

 _"_ It is alright, my cub," She began, muttering under her breath. "You are safe with me."

Boudicca was unsure how truthful her words were, if she were honest, she did not know how she would be greeted. Boudicca was unsure if she was considered an enemy at this point, she seemed to be an enemy of everyone. She hoped that no harm would come to her or her siblings if she told them that they were being hunted as of this moment and she was sure Sansa would tell him what has happened and he would take her word for it. Robb would not put two innocent children to death, would he? Boudicca did not care of what would become of her, she found herself caring little for anything nowadays.

The moment they abused her body, she found herself uncaring for anything except the people she was with as of this moment. She had made a promise to her father on his death and had made a promise to herself, _I will protect my siblings until my dying day._ Boudicca dismounted Storm as Orion waited loyally by her feet, she reached down and stroked his fur before she turned and hoisted Tommen down from his horse. Her eyes landed on Ser Davos, who was helping Myrcella down from their horse. And with the help of Beth, helped Jeyne and Sansa slide from the back of their white horse.

Boudicca could only pray to the Seven that Robb was the same boy he had been when she left Winterfell, the same boy that she wrote to. The same boy that gifted her the silver pendant, yet the Robb Stark that exits that large tent was a boy no longer but rather, a man. A man with hard, cold blue eyes that swept over the camp. She saw men and women alike kneel to him but Boudicca remained stubborn, she and her company remaining still. Robb's eyes narrowed slightly and she lifted her chin and nose into the air.

 _Bow_ , his eyes demanded but her back became straighter.

 _I bow to no man,_ came her fierce response.

"I am the King of the North," He began, his tone cool but polite. It was as if he were speaking to some stranger and although it stung, she regained her composure. "This is my territory."

"Trust me, we got the message," She replied coolly. "You may be at war with the Lannister's, Stark. Need I remind you I am not a Lannister, I am a Baratheon. A stag."

"And Joffrey?" Robb inquired, tensing considerably. The camp became animated in hushed whispers, muttering amongst themselves at the sudden rage in Robb's eyes but she merely raised a brow to it, clutching her siblings tighter and she gave a sidelong glance to Ser Davos, who slowly lay his hand on his sword. "He killed my father, Boudicca. He is a Baratheon, is he not? Your brother had his head chopped off and had his head placed on a spike. Are you saying you did not know of it?"

Boudicca looked on, offended at the accusation which made her temper flare considerably. She could feel the storm that was said to reside within her, _the fury_ , her father once called it roar inside of her, begging to be freed. First, her father died. Then, her brother had her publically whipped to the point she was near death in front of thousands. And now she has travelled miles, after having rescued his sister and the hostages, stopping at no one's expense despite her thighs, arms and back screaming for rest and to offer him her support and return his sister to him. Yet here he stood, as though she should be punished for her what her family had done.

"We have no brother," Boudicca spoke fiercely, her pained eyes averted to the ground as she gripped onto Tommen and Myrcella. "My brother...do you know what he did to me. He called on for me to the bend the knee and I refused, he had me tied to a post and publically whipped until I was nothing. Until I broke. Yet, I did not. I rescued your sister and the Ladies of the North and I rode, I rode from King's Landing to offer you help. And to bring your sister to you. I could have been selfish. I could have taken her to Dragonstone. I could have took her far away to the Free Cities but I did not. My siblings and I are being hunted down and if we are caught, we will be killed. I risked our safety for you, I rode North, for _you_."

"You act as if you have done me a favour," Robb replied curtly, his eyes cold and his jaw clenched as he looked her straight in the eye. "I am betrothed, you know? I agreed to marry one of Lord Frey's daughters. After I have dealt with Tywin's forces, I will be wed."

"And I care not for it," Boudicca responded, despite the hurt she felt. "You will not win this war. You may have won what? A battle or two, but that does not make you a King. If you want to take revenge against the Lannister's, you will not win this way. You have no one at your side who understands the lands you want to conquer. You nor your men know the strengths and weaknesses of King's Landing, not like I do. You do not know of the houses that will either support or oppose you if you come to blows with the Lannister's."

"I have a very large army," Robb said firmly and proudly. "And a very large _direwolf."_

"You know...ruling and killing aren't always the same thing," Boudicca retorted. "I have lived in the land of liars and since living in the land of snakes, I pride myself in catching the liars out. I'm very good at knowing when someone is lying and I must say, I am _very_ good at living. I rather like living. All considering the schemes of the Small Council and having a deranged brother that prefers to torture and execute people for living rather than becoming a ruler to his people. He never has listened to me and look where that has gotten him, the whole of the North and the Riverlands are revolting against him. I have come to offer my council. Will you listen to it, Robb Stark?"

"I may," He replied stiffly as he turned to his tent. "For now."

"You know-" Boudicca called after him, causing him to still. "You weren't the only one to lose a father."

"I know," Robb replied. His tone lightening as he glanced back at her and she saw that his pained eyes softened, considerably. " _I know."_

* * *

Author's Note: Hey, hopefully you like chapter's thirteen, fourteen and fifteen. I enjoyed writing them. If you have any questions about Boudicca or something else in the story, feel free to ask and I'll happily answer. I would like to thank all of you for reading this story, for following it and for making it one of your favourites. I would also like to give a massive thank you to everyone that has reviewed!

Reviews-

ladyres: I'm glad you think so, I felt it would be the right thing to do for Sansa's sake and she will also become one of the central characters in this story.

Boomer1125: I hope you like Chapter 13, 14 and 15!

RHatch89: Thank you!

birdy: Hopefully you like these new updates!

celticank: The reason she took them away from King's Landing is because she has a strong relationship with them and Sansa will become a main part of the story along with Boudicca. Hopefully you like these chapters!

Boramir: Thank you, I wanted to give as much parallel's as I can. There will be a few more in later chapters but this is just one of the many parallel's.

jean d'arc: Thank you, I'm glad you liked the twist. I won't say anything yet because it won't happen until later chapters but you are on the right track with Boudicca and Stannis.


	15. Chapter Fourteen

_Riverlands_

Boudicca Baratheon

Boudicca paced the tent that Robb had given her, like a caged lion and thought on his cold courtesies. She stilled, lifting up the direwolf pendant that was resting between her breasts and in anger, ripped it from her neck and threw it across the tent. Now, she finally had some understanding of why both her father and mother drank so heavily, because as of this moment, she desired to drown her irritation and hurt in wine. Though, she denied the sweet drink, knowing she must have a clear head, for the sake of her brother and sister. Instead, she found herself pacing back and forth in her tent, contemplating everything that has happened.

The sound of someone entering her tent made her spin around quickly on her heel only to see Robb enter the tent. She stood up straighter, her eyes never leaving him as she remained undeterred, wanting to assert her position. Boudicca was no intimidated doe, she was a Baratheon stag. A warrior. _I am now a lioness protecting her cubs,_ she thought fiercely. Boudicca looked up to Robb's face and saw that his expression was different now than it was when they were in front of his people; his eyes were softer and no longer dark, his brows were no longer furrowed and his lips were not pressed into their usual firm line.

"If I wanted an icy reception I would have gone to the Wall," Boudicca jested coldly, causing Robb to let out a long sigh and she watched as he ran his fingers through his curled hair. "Even then I would have gotten a warmer reception."

"Do you think I wanted this?" Robb demanded, giving her a fierce look. "To give you up and to be betrothed to some Frey girl that I do not know, or even love? I did it because it was my _duty_...I would have chosen you over this woman a thousand times over, I thought you would have known that. Had this...had this never happened to us...I would have happily made you my wife, the mother of my children..."

"And I rescued Sansa, Jeyne and Beth because it was _my_ duty," Boudicca replied stiffly, turning her back to him. "I did it because she is a part of my people. I did it so she would never have to suffer the same cruelty that I have suffered. I have too many scars, all of them induced by Joffrey. My body was abused. I could have bent the knee but I refused because yet again, it was my duty. I did not want another to be hurt at his hands. He will never be a good ruler nor King. Do not speak to me as if I do not know what duty is, Robb Stark."

"Anyway-" Robb began, his tone becoming formal once more and she knew that he was no longer Robb but rather, the King in the North. "I have received word from both Lord Stannis and Lord Renly. This is why I came to speak with you among other things. It gave me a reason to face you."

"My uncles...what do they want?" Boudicca asked, her brow furrowing.

Boudicca turned sharply around to face him then. Her uncles? She watched on as he unfurled the letter, straightening it out before he held it out to her, with a firm look. Boudicca walked closer to him, snatching the letter from his grip and started to inspect the contents in it. And what she discovered made her face pale, her body break out into a sweat and her head grow lighter. There, written in black ink, was the truth that Lord Eddard Stark had lost his head for. Her Uncle Stannis claims that Joffrey, Myrcella and Tommen were illegitimate children of the King, of her father. He impassively stated in the letter that they were the products of incest between Jaime and Cersei Lannister-with her as an exception. Her palms became clammy as she stared down blankly at the letter, that slowly clenched in her tight grip.

As she read on the angrier she grew, both Eddard Stark and her Uncle Stannis agreed that she was the rightful heir to the Iron Throne and Westeros but her uncle, Lord Renly dismissed this and desired the throne for himself, hailing himself as King. Her downcast eyes, that held nothing but betrayal and bitter tears residing in them looked up to Robb, who had his eyebrows raised expectantly. She felt her heart beat harder, pounding against her chest and all she could hear was her heart, that sounded like war drums in her ears.

"This...This is what Lord Stark died for," Boudicca murmured and he nodded slowly, everything fell into place them and she blinked back her angry tears and grit her teeth. "This...this is what Lord Arryn died for. One executed, the other poisoned. This is why your brother...this is why Bran was paralysed, he did not fall, he was pushed...and for what?"

"They lied to you," Robb said simply.

" _The seed is strong..."_ Boudicca muttered, stroking the words and repeated the words that were all too familiar. "After all this time..."

 _I am the rightful Queen of Westeros,_ Boudicca thought.

She folded the letter in half between her shaking fingers and passed it back to Robb. Boudicca felt her anger flare and began to let out a string of curses, knocking everything off of a nearby table as everything fell into place. The last chest piece was placed on the board. The last piece of the puzzle and now, now she had completely it. After years and years, she had thought of it as the Small Council's dangerous schemes but to think, to think that it was her _own_ mother. Her anger quickly turned into a seething rage.

"Lord Stannis has declared war on the Lannister's, as have I," Robb informed her, causing her to turn back to face him. "He has decreed that they step down from the throne or else he shall show them no mercy. Whilst Lord Renly, hailed himself as King, saying that the throne is rightfully his because if you were to marry and bear your husband, children, a house other than that of House Baratheon will be in control of Westeros. He believes that the throne should be passed to a male and he hails himself the true King of Westeros. He says that if you do not bend the knee to him, he will have no choice but to wage war against you. He demands that you hand over Myrcella and Tommen."

"I...I am Boudicca of the House Baratheon..." Boudicca panted, her green eyes ablaze as she turned to him fully with a heaving chest as she struggled for her breath. "I am the Bringer of Storms! And he dares to oppose me and threaten me! The storm is mine! If he wants a war, I will give him a fucking war! He will never have my siblings, not while I am breathing. I bend to no man!"

"I know that," Robb said. "They care not for loyalty. None of them care for it."

"And what of you?" Boudicca demands impassively, turning her back to him to stare at the candle light. "Where do your loyalties lie, Robb Stark? With the North? With your family?"

" _With you,"_ He answers lightly.

Boudicca stills at this and looks down at the cold silver that was placed once more around her neck and notices the all too familiar direwolf pendant. She turns swiftly around and their eyes meet, her eyes held confusion and distrust but his eyes only held a care that made her uncomfortable. She looks at him in shock but he says nothing and merely pulls her closer and places a hand on her cheek, caressing her cold cheek with his gloved thumb and gentleness.

* * *

Tywin Lannister

" _The fool!_ " He hissed.

The entire table fell silent as he turned to face his bannermen after the messenger had given them the news. He eyed the messenger coldly, causing the messenger to nod nervously before he bowed his head low and took a step back from him. It seemed the messenger knew his place more than his bannermen did. He straightened his back and walked to the table, laying his hands on it as he cursed his eldest grandson to the Hells. Tywin had received news of the public flogging of his eldest granddaughter and the news that Robb Stark has been crowned King and has captured his eldest son, Jaime. He did not know what news was worse, the fact that his legacy has been tainted or the fact that the Northerners have captured his son.

"The poor girl," Tyrion trailed off solemnly before he raised his wine goblet to his lips. "It seems you cannot pride yourself on legacy now. Take a look, father. Your eldest son, captured. Your youngest son, a disgrace to the family. Your eldest granddaughter has fled with your youngest grandson and granddaughter along with the hostages, no doubt with vengeance on her mind. Your daughter is steadily going mad and desperate. And then there is your grandson, the King...we have had some vicious, mad Kings in our lifetime...never would I have thought it would be _your_ grandson to be a vicious _and_ mad King who is also small minded, might I add...that is the great Tywin Lannister's legacy."

Tywin glared coldly towards his youngest son but reluctantly, he knew that Tyrion was right. He has made the mistake of underestimating the idiotic boy and what he was capable of and such a mistake has made things much more complicated than he anticipated. It seemed the people of King's Landing took the treatment of Boudicca, as a slight. As did he. Had it not been his grandson, he would have had the entirety of the boy and his house slaughtered and their bodies would hang above Casterly Rock. He knew that if order did not arrive soon in King's Landing, the city would erupt into chaos. Unfortunately, he had a war to win.

He was also angered at the fact his eldest son, Jaime was captured. By a boy no less and he cursed himself yet again for making the same mistake. He underestimated children too much. To some, Robb Stark and Joffrey may be men but to him and his age, they were nothing but insolent pups that needed to be dealt with, which he will. The moment he caught word of the North and the Riverlands rebellion, he marched for Riverrun and began to lay waste to the land. The news reached him far too late, for Robb Stark had reached the Riverlands many days ago and Jaime's army was crushed along with his son getting captured and now held as a hostage.

"This cannot be happening," Ser Reginald denied. "What possessed Ser Jaime? And what gave him the notion of sending some of our best footmen into the woods? He would have known, surely, that he would be vulnerable to an attack by Robb Stark's men? Is he mad?"

"He did it for the sake of Cersei," His brother, Kevin, responded calmly. "The Prince Tommen and the Princess Myrcella are somewhere in the Riverlands and the North. Ser Davos Seaworth and the Princess Boudicca have been reported to have smuggled them out of King's Landing, you heard it yourself. After her flogging, I doubt she would be wanting to stay around much longer. He wants to kill her. Any sane person who wishes to live would have fled given the opportunity and you'd do best to remember that. Princess Boudicca is now considered a traitor to the Iron Throne and is to be put to death for several accounts of treason, I call that an injustice but cowards would see otherwise."

"Ser Kevan speaks nothing but the truth, my Lord," The messenger informed him. "Robb Stark's men cut any contact we had with our camps then. Ser Jaime had gone out the night before in search of the children, the traitor and the smuggler, while doing so they attacked one of our three camps. They have taken him to a camp in the Riverlands. We received no warning. The camp that Ser Jaime was residing in was overrun. We were trying to cross to the other camp but more Stark soldier's swept in. This time, it was Robb Stark that led them, with a monstrous wolf at his side. Our men stood no chance."

"Seven Hells!" Lord Lefford cursed, slamming his fists on the table.

"How could this happen?" Ser Harys swore thunderously. "Ser Jaime is captured and held hostage by our enemy. The siege has ended with half our army crushed."

"You seem to be good at stating obvious things, Ser Harys," Lord Lefford drawled before fully turning to face him. "Is it true about the Baratheon brothers and the Princess Boudicca?"

"Yes," Tywin answered impassively. "The news of Robert Baratheon's brothers are true. They have taken up against us and the throne. Though there is an issue that is far more harrowing, it seems that my granddaughter has joined the rebellion. Lord Stannis has taken up arms, having named her the rightful heir to the throne and himself, as her Hand. He is following the laws of succession, the law of absolute primogeniture. Whilst Lord Renly is opposing them, claiming that the throne should be passed to a male successor and that he is the rightful heir to the throne. Though it does not matter what they are squabbling over as of this moment, as they are both vouching for the crown and are rebelling against the throne. I have come to believe, if we let the stags fight amongst themselves...it will prove less of a problem, they will be too invested in their family feud. House Baratheon has always been this way. Always fighting."

The news has caught everyone's attention then as stood stoically and stared at them, watching as his bannermen stare at him like fools, with their eyes wide and mouths open even wider. Ser Gregor Clegane, let out an inhuman snarl at this causing him to raise a brow before he looked to Tyrion, he saw that his youngest son showed little to no sign of surprise or confusion, in fact, he looked rather relieved at the mentioning of Boudicca. This caused him to narrow his eyes in suspicion, at what his son may be planning.

"My granddaughter had escaped King's Landing with the help of the smuggler, Ser Davos Seaworth. He is one of Stannis' most loyal men. Boudicca has taken Myrcella and Tommen, along with our hostages, in particular, Sansa Stark. Furthermore, she has also killed several of her brother's Kingsguard. Therefore, by the laws of King's Landing, Boudicca Baratheon has been decreed a traitor to the throne and crown," Tywin finished and clasped his hands behind his back, his gaze cold as it landed on his brother.

"Gods!" Ser Kevan breathed, leaning back into his chair and placed a hand on his face before rubbing his ageing features harshly. "How could she have done this? To us? To her family? I warned you Tywin, I _warned_ you."

"You are fools for not having seen it coming, did you hear differently to me? I clearly heard that Joffrey _flogged_ Boudicca. It was _never_ her fault," Tyrion spoke up and everyone turned to face him as he stared at them in disgust. "You do not know Boudicca and Joffrey, not like I do. There is no love lost between my niece and my nephew. My niece may be many things and has many faults, but she is not an idiot. Boudicca would never have done something this reckless unless he forced her hand. And to insinuate that she betrayed her family is a fabricated tale. There is nothing she loves more than her family, particularly her siblings and mother."

"It does not matter, her reason for leaving King's Landing matters no longer," Tywin said coldly. "Boudicca's actions have put us in a predicament, an impossible one. As she has taken our hostages, we no longer have anyone to trade for Jaime. My son is easily disposable to Robb Stark, he can do as he wishes to my son and there is nothing I can do unless I have a hostage that is of some worth. All I have is soldiers. I do not have any Lord's nor Ladies of importance to trade with him."

"Bargain with Princess Boudicca," Ser Damon suggested. "As Lord Tyrion says, she loves nothing more than her family. Appease her, I think she will be able to convince Robb Stark to let Ser Jaime go."

"No, that will be foolish!" Lord Lefford snapped. "We must ransom Ser Jaime. We may not have hostages of importance but we have gold and a lot of it!"

"It does not matter which option it is, they will think of us as weak either way. We send a _girl_ to do our work or we bribe them," His brother argued. "We should march on them at once!"

"They have my son!" Tywin snarled, pounding his fist on the table once more, his voice cutting through the cold air. "Get out. All of you."

His bannermen hastily rose to their feet, not needing to be told twice by him as they hurriedly emptied the tent. His younger son was about to join them but he raised his hand, stopping Tyrion in his tracks and looked at the lecherous creature, as he eased himself back into his chair. They sat in silence for a few moments and all he did was eye Tyrion carefully, inspecting him an impassive gaze as he watched his son pour himself his seventh goblet of wine.

"Boudicca is residing in Robb Stark's campsite," Tywin informed him, raising his goblet to his lips and sipped at it before placing it back down on the table. "And she means to join up with Stannis, I know that will be the next move she makes. I know not of the well being of Myrcella and Tommen. You were at Winterfell, Tyrion. How did Boudicca interact with House Stark and those Northerners?"

"The moment they laid eyes upon each other, both the Stark's and Boudicca seemed to get along. With Lady Arya, it seemed they became friends almost immediately. I would say the same with Lady Sansa. They look up to her. The young Lord Bran also admired, though I know not of what Lord Rick thought of her, same with Lady Catelyn. Although Lord Eddard held respect for her, it was Robb Stark that held her affections and by the looks of things, he returned them. You know what they Stark's are like, love at first glance," Tyrion told him, in between sips of wine. "Like father, like daughter.

"Boudicca will have the North and the Riverlands on her side, along with Dragonstone. As well as men seasoned in war and politics to council her," Tywin stated coldly. "The Vale might as well join her, especially after what happened in the Eyrie. The Crownlands will remain loyal to, of course, the crown. However, I do not know where the Stormlands stand. They have never been loyal to anyone other than a Baratheon. Yet here we have four Baratheon's fighting."

"The Stormlands..." Tyrion trailed off. "They _whisper_ her name. They have done since her birth, you know that. They always believe a Baratheon born during a storm, is a King or Queen of the Storm."

"I always thought you were a stunted fool," Tywin admits and holds his gaze. "Perhaps I was _wrong_."

"Half wrong," His son quips. "I am rather new to strategy but...unless we want to be surrounded by three armies, it would be wise if we didn't stay here."

"I do not intend to stay here. The morrow I leave for Harrenhal," Tywin informs him. "Ser Gregor will lay waste with five hundred riders and will set the Riverlands on fire from the God's Eye to the Red Fork. I want to see the Riverlands ablaze. You, however, I want you to return to King's Landing. I have no need of you here."

"And do what?" Tyrion asked with a raised brow.

" _Rule_ ," Tywin said firmly. "You will serve as the Hand of the King in place of myself, while I win this war. You will bring that boy to his knees, for what he has done to my granddaughter and his mother too if you need to. I want them both dealt with, if Cersei had a better reign on her children, letting them know of their place, he would not have made himself an enemy to the very folk that live inside the walls of his city. I want you to remind him, that in small numbers the small folk are manageable but in large numbers, they can be an unstoppable force. And if you get so much as a whiff of treason from the rest of them. Baelish, Varys, Pycelle-"

"Heads, spikes, walls," Tyrion finishes.


	16. Chapter Fifteen

_Riverlands_

Boudicca Baratheon

"I will end his life for doing that to you," Robb swore, his features darkening as he leant forward in his seat. "He had no right."

"It was only a matter of time," Boudicca shrugged, placing her quill back in the ink pot and handed him the letter she had written. It was a letter to address the Lords and Ladies of the Stormlands, to tell them of her survival and her claim to the throne. It has been one week since they arrived at the camp and although it was still tense between her and Robb. The relationship they once shared was gradually rebuilding. "The death of my father has merely sped things up. I think that my brother always intended to kill me. Joffrey swore he would. He stated that he would give me a bloody red smile, from ear to ear, and I said that I'd smack his arse so hard if he so much as pointed a knife at me, that it would be stinging and beetroot red for days."

"You did not mention your mother's infidelity. Nor that the Kingslayer is an oathbreaker," Robb frowned, handing her back the letter. "Why?"

" _I know_ ," Boudicca sighed, her tone softer as she let her eyes flutter close. "If I told them this, it would help me with my claim and I know I should...but I _can't_."

"Why?" Robb asks once more but she shook her head, reopening her conflicted eyes to meet his own.

"I can't," Boudicca insisted, pain laced in her voice. "I hold little to no care for what happens to my uncle and my brother, but Cersei...she is my _mother._ And Myrcella and Tommen are my younger siblings, no matter the ill feelings I bare for Joffrey. If the secret of House Lannister and of the Iron Throne is discovered, they will hunt my mother and siblings down. I know they will. I cannot bring myself to destroy the lives of my siblings...their innocence. I have fallen for six things in my lifetime. My mother, my father, my siblings and Orion..."

"What of the sixth thing?" Robb inquired while she gave him a sidelong glance. _You_.

"Myrcella and Tommen _are_ my younger sister and brother. I have loved them since they were merely a swell in my mother's belly. I watched over them at my mother's side as they were brought into this world and I shall watch over them forever more. My siblings have already lost our father...I cannot do that, not to them," Boudicca responded hoarsely, tears welled in her eyes but she blinked them away. "I love my siblings more than the life I live and I would gladly give my life so that they can live."

"King Robert was not their real father, Boudicca," Robb stated, though a small but sad smile was visible on his face.

"To them he was," Boudicca informed him and she too found herself smiling, lost in some of the bitter but happy memories of her childhood involving her younger siblings and their father. "I remember how my father used to bounce Myrcella on his lap or how he would toss Tommen in the air before catching. He may never have put in the time and effort with them like he did me but my father...my father truly did love Myrcella, Tommen and Joffrey. And I am sure they loved him equally as fierce. Myrcella and Tommen are blood of my blood, bone of my bone and that is all I will ever know."

"I'm sorry," He answered softly. "They have to be told eventually, Boudicca. The entirety of the North and the Riverlands know the truth my father died for."

"I will tell my siblings when the time comes, until then, not a word of this shall be breathed to them," Boudicca answered swiftly. "They deserve better."

" _Abominations!"_ A voice snarled.

Her eyes met Robb's as they listened to a fight that was starting to break out within the camp. Boudicca wrapped her thin, furred cloak around her to cover her back and shoulders as she and Robb made their way out of the tent. Boudicca assessed the situation with her hackles raised when she saw Ser Davos with his sword drawn and pointing it towards to men that had cornered him and her siblings. Her eyes narrowed and her brows furrowed as she took a step forward. Robb marches forward, his hand resting on his own sword as he neared the men. Boudicca's eyes flickered from the men to her siblings, lingering terrified behind Ser Davos and Orion snarled as he bumped harshly against her leg, prowling forward towards the soldiers.

"What is the meaning of this?" Robb demanded.

"They are abominations, Your Grace," The gruff man said, his eyes never leaving her siblings. "The mother as well."

"We should send their heads back to their bitch of a mother and the boy they call King!" The other cried out, this caused her to storm forward with burning eyes, drawing her sword.

"If you still want to have your cock and balls," Boudicca threatened, pressing the tip of her sword into his neck as a crowd began to gather around them, watching in hostility and interest as she pressed the blade further into the man's skin, it was enough to make her threat serious but it was not enough to draw blood from the man, who had his eyes trailed on her sword and swallowed nervously. "You will ensure that I don't hear such words pouring out of your cunt mouth again!"

"And you are?" The older man challenged, turning to face her and leered.

"I am Boudicca fucking Baratheon," She sneered fiercely.

"See? This woman is nothing more than King Robb's whore!" The man proclaimed. "Your mother is a Lannister _cunt_."

" _Enough!_ " Robb roared, silencing the men. "I will hear no more of this."

"Ser Davos, take my siblings back to my tent," Boudicca ordered firmly and the man nodded, sheathing his sword and whisked her worried siblings away.

Boudicca did not even have time to regain her composure, before she realised it, the entirety of Robb's army had gathered around them. Their tired, worn faces held the same expression as the man who dared to call her a ' _whore_ '. They believed him. Her temper flared and she knew then that faith and courage in a leader did not come naturally, they had to believe in her. No man would want to fight for someone, knowing that they would not fight for them. Boudicca had to give them a reason to fight for her. Otherwise, she would be just some woman with nothing but a fancy title. Titles meant nothing when it came to war. Boudicca turned her attention to a nearby rock and stood atop of it, turning around to face the majority of the people.

"Your Liege Lord Eddard Stark is _dead_ ," Boudicca began, sneering at the thought of it. If she could, she would have stopped it and she would forever feel that guilt. "You may not think I know nothing but what I do know is this, that Lord Stark was an honourable man. He was a man who only saw justice in what he was doing! And to kill someone for what they know only proves that they want to silence the truth! I call his death, murder! They murdered your Liege Lord. They murdered the Warden of the North. They murdered a lawful man. Lord Stark knew a secret that many do not, he knew that Joffrey Baratheon had no claim to the throne! He _knew_ that he was not Robert's son! The blood of Baratheon does not flow that boy King's veins, as it does mine! He is no _stag_! He is a _lion_!

Boudicca saw frowns appear on their faces and anger dance in their eyes, creases were forming around their tired and lifeless eyes but after a small short pause, the people that were gathering closer wasted no time. They started to chant their protests and cries of war, as their fists or weapons flew into the air. It felt natural. Boudicca felt a sudden surge of power and victory, and as she started to rile them up once more, she felt something strange rile up within her. A _hunger_. It was not a hunger for war, for bloodshed but rather for justice. For vengeance.

"I am Boudicca of the House Baratheon, I am the Demon of the Trident's daughter. And I speak to you now, not as your better...no, I will never be your better but rather as one of you-" Boudicca paused, thinking on it as she let the very fury that strives every stag, the same fury that can create a rebellion and sink a thousand ships and with that, she continued her anger and pain filled speech. All the emotion she has kept to herself; the betrayal, the sadness, the fury, the bitterness...all of it was poured into her addressing Robb's army. "I am the Bring of Storms and I promise you, that when we take back what was stolen from us, that I will do everything that I can to prevent anything like this from happening again! _This is your land!_ This your land that they mean to torch! This is _your_ land they are destroying! If they win, it will be your _homes_ he _burns_! It will be your _brothers_ they will _murder_! It will be your _children_ they will _slaughter_! It will be your _women_ that they will _rape_! Have those _demons_ not done enough to wrong you?"

The air was growing tense and she could see the thirst for blood adorned on their angered faces as roars erupted then, more fists were plunged into the air. Boudicca turned around slowly, to take in the sight around her along with what she heard, as the start of banner poles were hammering against the ground along with their feet, following by the clashing of swords against shields but something was not right still. Boudicca knew she had not fully one them over yet. It would take more than mere speeches to do so, any man can stand up and make some speech but she knew this was a _start._ It was a start and this start would someday allow her to have loyal men fighting by her side. Her father told her there was no man more loyal than a Northerner. And here she was, addressing an army of Northerners and folk from the Riverlands.

"And are you not _Northern_ folk? I heard you Northerners were unconquered and unbeaten as the Northern snow?" She demanded. "I heard that the North may forgive but will _never_ forget!"

" _The North Remembers!"_

"People of the North and the Riverlands!" Boudicca addressed fiercely, her voice now roaring as she withdrew her sword from its sheath as the army fell silent once more, listening to her intently and at first she unsure if they had liked what she had to say. "I am the Bring of Storms and you, you are hardened and cold. You are winter and what are your words? What are the words that we will make those demons _never_ forget?"

" _Winter is Coming!"_

"Winter is Coming! And winter will come to them and what a storm we will bring!" She proclaimed a smile on her face as her chest fell and rose quickly as she panted. "That I can promise."

Boudicca stilled with a baited breath, as she waited for a reply. The camp was still. No movement. No noise. It was as if time stood still. She glanced back at Robb with uncertainty as she stepped down from the rock and began to walk back to them, hoping that her words at least meant something when she heard the stomping of feet and she was suddenly engulfed by the storm that was created by the people in the camp. The weapons that some people possessed had them raised in their and clashed their shields against their weapon like lightning as their feet sounded like thunder below. Their feet made the ground shake.

Robb's face twitched into a large smile as she went to approach him, with a slightly shocked and dazed look on her face. He said nothing but all he did was chuckle. As she was about to question him, she was suddenly snatched by many arms and was thrown high into the air but they caught her again before she hit the hard ground. She could not help but let a smile appear on her face as they did this a few more times and they started to chant her name. At first, she thought it would be Robb's name they would chant but she stilled, a look of utter awe on her face at what she heard.

" _Boudicca!"_

 _"The Bring of Storms!"_

 _"The Avenger!"_

 _I will take back what was stolen from me and I will destroy that dare oppose us,_ Boudicca thought on as she was thrown high into the air once more and this time, she could not help but laugh even though she was thinking such dark and vengeful thoughts. Boudicca tried to look back at Robb and at last, she saw the boy she once knew back at Winterfell but when their eyes met, he was gone as quickly as he came when they threw her in the air once, chanting her name. _I will lay waste to armies and I will take their broken banners._

* * *

"What was the sixth thing?"

She had been reading about the scorched earth tactic when Robb's voice had sounded in her tent, causing her to jump from her chair in fright, she ended up dropping her book on war tactics, to the floor and she turned to face them. Her brow furrowed as her irritated green eyes met his amused blue eyes. She raised her hand to her chest and covered it, feeling her racing heart. Boudicca started to regain her lost breath before she answered him.

"I wish you wouldn't do that, Stark," Boudicca breathed. "Why do you keep doing that?"

"Doing what?" Robb asked innocently enough, though she could hear the jesting tone in his voice.

"You frightened me," She hissed, storming over to him as he started to laugh. "It isn't funny. You know, one day my heart may stop from fright and you will be sorry."

"I'm sorry," Robb chuckled before he looked to her again, his eyes trailing down to the necklace she still wore."I see you are still wearing the necklace."

"I...I..." Boudicca stammered and for the first time in her life, she found herself lost for words before she sighed, touching the pendant. "Yes."

"We will bring a storm to them," Robb promised as he approached and she eyed him carefully as he drew closer to her until their chests were touching. "I have looked back on my treatment of you and I-"

"You don't need to apologise, Stark," She scoffed, giving a slight shove on his shoulder. "I-"

"No, I _want_ to," Robb insisted as he gently grabbed her hands, causing her to raise a brow as he drew her towards him. "If my father were to hear me talking to you the way I did, in front of my men no less, he would have been disappointed. And I too, am disappointed. The way I treat you was disgusting. I saw that you had brought my sister back to me and I can never repay you. I had looked to you that day and saw Lannister, I did not see Baratheon. All I saw was Joffrey's sister and I was treating you like I would treat the Kingslayer. I should never have treated you this way, _especially_ in front of my men. That makes them think they have the same right as I, to treat you this way...when they do not. If I were in your position, I would feel degraded and-"

"Robb," Boudicca interrupted. His eyes averted up from the ground and he looked on at her questioningly, his brows furrowing softly.

"Aye?" He breathed. "

" _Shut up_ ," She replied, before pressing her lips fiercely to his, the kiss was short and lasted mere seconds but she still embraced the tenderness of it all the same.

"You inspired my men," Robb murmured, pulling away as he brought his lips to her ear and let his teeth graze it lightly, his breath that hit her, made her shudder in the cold air as he pulled her into his arms, until her hand was touching his chin as she placed her own chin on his shoulder. He continued to whisper to her, his tone remaining soft. "You inspired me. I care for you _deeply_ and I wish-"

"No!" Boudicca protested, pulling away abruptly and shrugged him off fiercely. "I can't do that, Robb. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have kissed you. I'm an arse for doing so but you are a betrothed man and I cannot be your whore."

"You are not a whore, if the words of that man are praying on your mind, ignore them. Those words mean nothing to me," Robb argued, a frown making its way onto his hurt face.

"They mean something to me!" She retorted angrily, turning her back to him and kept her hand on the wolf pendant. "You said it yourself, you are to be married to a Frey girl. You made a promise to Lord Walder Frey and I cannot be in the way of your betrothal. It is a promise. You cannot break your oath. I am not some woman you can claim! I am not your woman! Nor will I ever be. I have said this once and I will say it again, I bow nor kneel to no man."

"You are," He insists and placed his hands on her waist and rests his forehead on the back of her head. "You will always be my woman, as I will be your man. _Marry me_."

"W-What?" Boudicca asked, all the air leaving her as she pushed him away once more and turned to face him. Her mouth became agape but she recovered and took it as him jesting her and gave him a teasing smile. "You want to marry me, hm? You want me to help you run your castle and be your pretty little Southern wife, ruling by your side and birthing you a pack of wolf pups? Is that what you want? Is it, Robb Stark?"

" _Aye,_ " Robb answered. Her smile faded when she saw that he was serious. He grabbed her wrists and brought her hands to his lips, placing kisses on them. "I want all that. I want to marry for love. I want to be selfish. Although it is not love yet, I care for you more than you know and I want those feelings to grow. I want you to be my Queen. I want you to bind your hand to mine and I want you to fight side by side with me...and I want you to give us our children. I want all that with no one else, no one else but _you._ "

Boudicca felt tears wet her cheeks and she growled at herself in frustration for ironically being such a Princess but she could not help it as she chuckled lightly. All her life, she thought that one day she would be doomed to wed someone that did not understand her and did not care for her nor love her but he, but Robb, a man she had come to know, had come to know since Winterfell. Boudicca felt she could have something her mother and father did not share. She harshly blinked those tears away as he asked her once more to marry him and when he did, she pounced on him, throwing her arms around his shoulders as she pressed a fiercer kiss to his lips.

They have shared a few kisses in their lifetime but every kiss they shared had a different meaning. They have shared gentle kisses, teasing kisses, rough kisses and lustful kisses. This kiss, this kiss was different...

 _It was one of hope._

* * *

 _King's Landing_

Cersei Lannister

The Small Council was gossiping about the current affairs but Cersei cared little of it. Her mind was focused on her children. Her eldest children would soon enough become leaders on opposite sides of the war, while her younger children, her sweet cubs, were caught in it. And she knew that one day her eldest children will come to blows, that day was nearing. After what had happened to Boudicca, the peasants of Flea Bottom have rioted and have continued to do so, even after many of them have had their heads placed on a spike.

"-It has been the longest summer in living memory," Pycelle informs them, drawing her from the thoughts of her children.

"You know. The peasants say a long summer," Varys begins a sly smile on his face. "Means an even longer winter."

"Superstitions," Baelish scoffs. "Fewer peasants to feed."

"If winter is coming, the riots will undoubtedly get worse. The rise in crime throughout the city spiked shortly after Princess-" Janos Slynt paused, stiffening at the glare she gave him. "It has spiked and we have thousands of refugees. The city is flooding with people. We have can no longer house them. The conditions will get worse. The last time we had this many people in King's Landing was during the time of the Great Spring sickness."

"You command the City Watch," Cersei snapped irritably. "I suggest you do your duty or I will send you to where the real winter is. I want the gates shut to the peasants. No more."

"Yes, Your Grace," Ser Janos nodded before falling silent.

They all turned to face the entrance to the Small Council's room and she stiffened upon hearing a carefree whistling, Cersei looked up from her goblet of wine in disdain as she heard the all too familiar tune and her eyes landed on the last person she ever wanted to see. The little imp. Her brother strolled into the room as if he had no care in the world, causing her eyes to narrow dangerously when his smug eyes met her own.

"Why are you here?" Cersei snaps but it went unheard by him.

"I hope you forgive me for the interruption," Tyrion began as he walks towards her and plants a wet kiss to her face. "It seems war and worry agrees with you. You look ravishing, big sister."

"What are you doing here?" Cersei asks venomously once more when he takes a seat next to her and grabs himself a goblet of wine.

"Ah, I have had a remarkable journey. I have seen so many wondrous sights," Tyrion muses while taking a sip of wine. "I have pissed off the edge of the Wall. I have slept in a sky cell. I have bargained for my life and fought side by side with the hill tribes I encountered. It was terrifying, almost lost my cock. I have had so many adventures, therefore I am very thankful to be seeing you, big sister. Though, it seems I returned to find the city in chaos."

"I ask, what are you doing here?" Cersei demands, gritting her teeth. "This is the Small Council. You have no right to be here."

"You see," Tyrion hums. "I think I have every right, in fact as Hand of the King, I might be more entitled to be here than you, dear sister."

"You lie," She scoffs. "Our father is Hand of the King."

"He is..." Her brother trails off and pulls out a letter and hands it to Varys, who opens it and begins to read it, his brows furrowing. "In his absence, however, I am the Hand."

"It seems, your father has named Lord Tyrion to serve as Hand of the King in his-" Varys starts but furiously she stands from her seat.

"Out!" Cersei commands fiercely. "All of you!"

Cersei kept her eyes fixated on her little imp of a brother as the Small Council hastily disbanded and as soon as the Council left, she snatched her goblet and downed it before her piercing gaze fell on him once more as she sneered at him. _He surely cannot be serious,_ Cersei thought ferociously. _He expects me, the Queen Regent to take orders from the likes of him?_ Cersei's green eyes met his mismatched ones and her lips pursed.

"You must have tricked father," Cersei denied. _He jests,_ she thought to herself.

"If I were capable of tricking him," Tyrion begins as she hesitantly sits back down. "I would be the richest man in the world."

"I am perfectly capable-"

"Are you?" He inquires, interrupting her causing her eyes to narrow. "Tell me...I want to know what happened."

"I tried to stop Joffrey from taking Lord-" Cersei starts but once again her brother interrupts her.

"Cersei..." Tyrion said her brows furrowed at his tone, it was softer than it ever has been. "What happened to her? Tell me."

"My daughter...my daughter has always been stubborn, it is a great strength yet a great weakness," Cersei informed him. "It always has been with her, the stubborn girl. Joffrey told her to bend the knee, she refused and...and he did _that_ to her. He had her tied to a post and flogged. I managed to stop it before it escalated...I was not there to witness what the lashings until the end. If my daughter was placid or if she were anything like Myrcella, she would have died after the first four lashes. Joffrey made plans to execute her. And now look, Boudicca has fled with my other children and they are caught up in this war."

"I knew this would happen...but I never the boy had it in him," Tyrion agreed and let out a long sigh, slumping in his seat. "They care not for each other."

"Lord Eddard...he warned me, he saw this coming long before I did and I am their mother. I should have known," Cersei told him, her voice wavering as she dug her nails into the table. "I knew...I always did...I just refused to believe it until now. I often forget that they are no longer children of six and three. I often forget that my daughter is ten and seven, and Joffrey is ten and four. I forget that. I never forget that time...there was a venomous snake in the gardens and it was aiming for Joffrey but Boudicca had stamped on its head before it could do anything to harm him. _I'll protect him, mother_ , her sweet and little voice told me. _I will never let anyone harm him._ Now, look at them...they are at war with each other...Joffrey, I can never look him in the eye properly...not after what he has done to her." Cersei sneered, feeling bitter tears gather at the corners of her eyes. "Boudicca is my child, my daughter, my _first_ born. It is said you never love anything in the world the way you love your first child. She was not Robert's, she may have held his looks but she was not his. Nor was she Jaime's. Boudicca was my child and mine alone and I let Joffrey do that to her."

"Cersei. You would never have known," Tyrion points out. "There is no way you could have ever known. He will be held accountable for it."

"I love my children with all my heart. I love nothing but my children," Cersei stated with a shake of her head. "I would do anything for them. I would kill for them. I would die for them. What am I supposed to do? How is a mother to kill for her child when it is her other child trying to kill the other? If Joffrey had succeeded...If he had killed her...I think, I think I would have killed him. I would never be able to forgive Joffrey if she had died that day..."

"It has finally happened then. Your eldest children going to war at long last," Tyrion said as he poured himself another glass of wine. "You should not be worrying about your son at the moment, he can't harm her anymore. I won't let him try it. You should be worrying more about the fact that she is running with the wolves and that Renly is decreeing that she either bends the knee or dies. If I were you, the last thing on my mind would be Joffrey. He is easily controllable. It is the clash of antlers you need to worry about."

As Tyrion stood up and left quietly with those parting words, she shakily stood and with one loud cry, she swept everything off of the table with her arms before she lay her hands on the table. Cersei tapped her nails against the wood, her eyes flickered up to the portrait of her children. Her three golden haired cubs were stood in front of her raven haired fawn. It was as if Maggy the Frog, the piss take of a witch was standing behind her shoulder, whispering mockingly in her ear, spitting venom and puss at her.

 _You shall birth death!_


	17. Chapter Sixteen

_Riverrun_

Boudicca Baratheon

From atop of her horse, Boudicca watched the flames dance across the Riverlands. The red, orange and yellow flames lit up the dark night's sky. The smoke was a thick fog and she could barely make out the ground below her. A frown remained on her face as the sight in front of her, reflected her anger. The fury she felt at this very moment. Her grandfather, Tywin Lannister had started the fires that stretched for miles and she closed her eyes, inhaling the smell of burning wood.

 _Scorched earth_ , Boudicca recalled her father's teachings, if she could call them teachings, it was mostly about the 'good' old days, when he was younger and certainly leaner. And she also remembered a vague bit from the book she was reading. _A scorched land, girl,_ her father slurred. _Is a dead land._

"If winter is truly coming like you say, it will be a harsh one for the people of the Riverlands," Boudicca remarked.

Boudicca looked over her shoulder to face Robb, who came up behind her on his horse. Their heads turned back to face the nearby fishing village that had been burnt to the ground by the Mountain, Ser Gregor Clegane. She knew that the screams of the small folk would forever echo in the village's bloody history. Boudicca swore that their screams were being carried by the smoke, causing her to inwardly shiver when she saw the smoke rolling towards them, covering the horse's ankles and knees. The sky had turned purple and grey when the news was delivered to camp, she was conversing with Lady Sansa and Catelyn at the time when a messenger had informed them that the Mountain had lay waste to a village near the camp and there was little to no people left from the village. Those that did survive were welcomed to the camp.

"My mother's lands," Robb began, his voice wavering. "Her home. Her people."

"Tywin Lannister. He is a man of little conscious but a lot of cunning," Boudicca stated and turned to face Robb. "To ensure the survival of House Lannister, I know that he would burn the entire world if it would ensure that his legacy would be kept alive. Unfortunately, I am a part of that legacy along with my siblings. I remember when I was a child, my grandfather came to King's Landing. I do not know of the reason why he came to King's Landing but I heard them. My father, my mother and my grandfather. They were arguing who would foster me. My grandfather wanted both me and my younger brother, Tommen to return with him to Casterly Rock. My father refused and said that I was better of with your family all the while my mother screeched protests for everything. I think that was the only time my mother ever won a battle with them. My mother is like my grandfather in a way, she would burn the entire world...just keep us safe."

"Lord Tywin will pay for this," Robb stated, closing his eyes and clenching his fists around the reins of his horse. Boudicca's brows furrowed and she reached over, grasping his hand and laced her fingers through his own and gave his hand a firm squeeze. This caused him to reopen his eyes and he looked over to her softly. "I will kill all of them. Every one of them."

"They will _pay_ with their lives," Boudicca swore. "I promise. We will gorge on their blood."

"I have not asked this yet but how are your sister and brother faring?" Robb asked suddenly, changing the subject as they turned on their horses and started back for camp.

"They are coping," Boudicca replied, a small smile on her face as she chortled at a thought. "It turns out Ser Davos did not know how to read nor write, Myrcella was astonished and made it her mission to teach him. While my little brother he mostly passes his time with your Lady mother, Catelyn...they miss mother. And they also miss their home but I can't take them to a home that will be riddled with war...this war will not end well on Joffrey's part and I do not want them caught up in his demise. I would not put them through that."

"I know. I felt the same way with...Bran and Rickon...but look what happened," Robb trailed off but she looked on at him intensely.

"They were brave," Boudicca stated firmly. "They were brave boys. The bastard Kraken is to blame, it will never be your fault. They should not have been caught up in the games we play."

"And now the Riverlands bleed because of it," Robb finished and with that, they fell silent as they rode back to the campsite.

* * *

"Goodnight, Myrcella," Boudicca murmured softly.

She pressed a soft kiss to her sister's forehead as her blonde haired sister fell into a gentle sleep. Boudicca looked to the flame by her sister's bedside and pinched it between her finger and thumb, snuffing out the candle light. Her eyes averted to Tommen, who was already sound asleep in his own bed and she let a smile appear on her face as she fondly looked at her sleeping siblings. Boudicca turned to face Ser Davos, who was sat in the lighted corner of the tent, muttering words he was trying to read under his breath.

"I would like to thank you," She began, approaching him. "I never got to thank you before."

"No need to thank me," Ser Davos said gruffly, placing down the book to look at her. "I was only following orders."

"You Knights and your orders. It is always the same," She chuckled. "You lot always say you are just following orders but really, you did it because you wanted to, not because you had to. You could have easily left after delivering us to Robb's camp but you did not. You stayed with us. You have protected us. I doubt my uncle gave you the order to protect my younger siblings. Lord Arryn always told me that our hearts were free and only we could follow our hearts. It sounded like something out of one of my sister's books but it is true."

"I look at you sometimes...and I wonder how you are the child of Robert Baratheon and Cersei Lannister," Ser Davos stated but she merely shrugged.

"Our blood and name do not define us," Boudicca said simply.

"You speak truly," The Onion Knight replied but she saw his eyes flicker to the book and she raised a brow.

"Are you stuck on a word, Ser?" Boudicca asked bluntly, looking over his shoulder. He looked up immediately and let out a long sigh as she picked up the large book and began to inspect the small words. "You are doing well, this is a complex book. I take it that my sister is a harsh teacher?"

"Firm but fair," He remarked and scratched his pepper coloured beard as they shared a chuckle between them. "Though, I still do not understand how and why a word is written differently to how we say it. Like, knight for example. We do not sound the 'k' in knight. It is a silent letter apparently but what bothers me is, why is it there in the first place, if we do not even pronounce it when we speak? And there is also a difference between see and sea. It is difficult to grasp. I may not be very good at writing but at least I knew how to write my name or so I thought."

"I honestly can say that I do not know myself. It always confuses me," Boudicca responded. "I heard Ser Jaime Lannister has been delivered to camp, is there any truth to this?"

"Aye," Ser Davos replied. "He arrived with the remainder of the camp just after sup. Do you wish for me to accompany you?"

"Thank you, Ser Davos but I wish to speak with him alone," Boudicca told him before she placed a hand on his shoulder. "I thank you once again for looking after my younger brother and sister in my absence. I also thank you for rescuing us from King's Landing. I would not have been able to escape without your help, without you, I do not think I would be standing here. Ser Davos Seaworth, I am _forever_ in your debt. Ask anything of me and if it is within my power, I will assure to grant it."

Ser Davos looked on shocked but accepted her gratitude with a firm nod before she turned calling on Orion, who was curled up beside Tommen and Myrcella's beds as she left the large tent. Boudicca looked around the once lively camp, she smiled at people who greeted her. It was nearing midnight, judging by the moon that was high in the sky and most people, with a few exceptions had turned in for the night. Boudicca made her way through the camp, weaving her way through the maze like camp towards the holding cells near the edge of the camp.

Her lion cub stalked after her, snarling at anything or anyone who came close to them and in a strange, comforting way, the lion was familiar. _Mother_ , Boudicca thought solemnly. Her lion cub reminded her of her mother. Her mother was a lioness in pretty clothing and her mother was fierce as any warrior when it came to her and her siblings. Her mother's claws could be as long and sharp as a sword if they had to be. _Mine are long and sharp as yours,_ Boudicca thought as she approached the cells. Her eyes finally landed on her uncle and she almost scoffed at what the great Kingslayer had become.

His hands were shackled to the ground and his body bound in chains to the cell. His hair was no longer golden, no longer a great lion's mane but rather his hair looked like her own in a way, his hair was dark and caked in both blood and dirt. It was evident that her uncle had not bathed in days if not weeks by the smell when she took a deep breath. If it were not for the piercing green eyes that were very similar to her own staring at her, she would not have recognised her uncle with the beard. _How the prideful Lannister lion falls,_ Boudicca remarked to herself as she neared the cells and the guards situated by them.

"I wish to see Jaime Lannister," Boudicca stated firmly.

The guards look on at her with hesitancy before they reluctantly opened the cell door and both she and her lion cub stepped in. Boudicca turned to look over her shoulder at the guards, who remained standing at the cell door and their wary eyes were trained on her. As her gaze settled on the first and youngest guard, he flinched and hastily stepped back. She remained silent before she sat down on the stool and turned to stare intensely at her uncle, who held a smirk on his face as he eyed her but he too, remained silent. Boudicca absentmindedly stroked Orion's fur as she kept her eyes trained on her uncle but her eyes narrowed when she felt the eyes of the guards trained on her.

"Leave us," She commanded and the guards retreated quickly at this, her uncle began to chuckle.

"You have balls," Her uncle drawled.

"Aye, that I do," Boudicca taunted cruelly. "How are you faring uncle?"

"I am a lucky man, aren't I?" Uncle Jaime asked sarcastically, his smirk widening on his face. "The Queen has graced me with her presence."

"I am no Queen," Boudicca denied. Her face remained impassive as she studied her uncle. " _Yet_."

"I think your wolf has become rather fond of me. He could have left me with one of his bannermen, instead, he insists on dragging me from camp to camp," He replied. Her uncle's cocky expression turned into a leer. "I heard you are to become a wolf yourself soon. I heard those guards talking about it, the news does travel fast. It is such a shame you will become a bitch."

"My father once said that he would throw me to the wolves," She sneered, leaning forward in her seat. "And I said, that I would return with a pack."

"I see you are still bitter about your father's death?" Jaime smirked. He shifted into another position, to seemingly inspect her features more closely. Her uncle eyed her for a few moments before he let out a short laugh, throwing his head back. "You look like your mother when you make that stone cold face. Anyway, now that you have gained my full attention, how may I be of service, _gentle_ Boudicca?"

"How long have you been in a relationship with my mother?" Boudicca demanded immediately, her lips pursed into disgust. "How long have you held this _secret_?"

"Secret? Whatever do you mean, my sweet niece?" Her uncle inquired, giving her a perplexed look.

"I cannot be bothered with games as of this moment," She said and slid off her stool and knelt by his side. "I know that my siblings are _your_ children. Joffrey, Myrcella and Tommen. They are your children."

"If that is true, that makes _you_ the rightful heir," He said slyly and cocks his head to the side as he peers at her. "How _convenient_ for you and for the rest of the stags. For Stannis, it is the perfect opportunity to have power. For Renly, it is a perfect opportunity to gain the throne. For you...well, you are exactly like your father. You have the same look in your eye. The _lust_. You lust for the war, don't you? Unless you have proof of our relationship, dear niece, that accusation that is being so loosely thrown around is nothing more than Southern gossip."

"Bran Stark," Boudicca immediately answered, chuckling softly as she brought her lips to his ear, gripping his shirt. "The boy was not the only one to see you that day."

Boudicca pulled away slowly, her face and eyes void of any emotion as she watched her uncle's eyes widen in shock. "You... _you_?"

"Yes, I found him," She informed him fiercely. "He was a little boy, he wanted to be a knight. A Kingsguard. And you took that from him. I watched that day as his frail, little body hit the icy, cold ground covered in snow. I watched that day as all his hopes, his dreams, his aspirations turned to nothing like the use of his legs. You crippled an innocent child and for that, you will pay. What? Are you shocked? Do you have no grim or witty remark? No sarcastic comeback? No smirk? Anyway, that is not why I am here. You are nothing to me now but a useful trade."

"You think the great Tywin Lannister is going to negotiate with the likes of _you_ ," Jaime drawled, scoffing at the mere thought of it. "You do not know him very well if you think so, _dear niece_."

"Nor does he know of me," Boudicca retorted with a slight nod of her head. "I do agree, I do not know him. Though, he does not know of me. Actually, it seems he does not know about a lot of things. If he did, then he would have learned of your secret long ago. The great Tywin Lannister, Lord of Casterly Rock, the Lion's legacy is a _lie_."

"You-" Jaime began but she shook her head, patting his shoulder roughly.

"I suggest you get some rest uncle," Boudicca remarked. "You are going to need it, especially for the darker days to come. A war is on the horizon, I can feel it."

"What is it with you Baratheon's and your wars?" Uncle Jaime snarked but she merely ignored him and stood, turning to back out of the cell and called for the guards. "Always fighting. Always furious. Always thunderous. The day that I see a Baratheon that isn't rebelling against the throne, gritting their teeth or consumed by their so called fury will be the day that the Hells have finally frozen over."

"You will go back to King's Landing and when you do, I suggest you start teaching Joffrey swordplay. For I will come for him," Boudicca promised impassively before she began to walk off as the guards locked the door behind her, she stilled when her uncle called after her.

"Boudicca!" Her uncle shouted. "How are Myrcella and Tommen?"

Boudicca stared at him blank eyed and ignored his question, turning her back to him as she walked away. _I must prepare_ , she thought as she eyed the people who were bowing to her and some clasped their hand on her shoulder as she passed them. Boudicca knew what was to come and while she did not like it, she knew that it was a necessary evil. _I will ride to Bitterbridge and I will deal with Renly._ She thought of her Uncle Stannis's letter to her. The words were certain, clear and held a threatening meaning.

 _Renly, Baratheon or not, must bend the knee or he will die_ , the words of her uncle were present in her mind then as she made her way back to the tent she was sharing with Robb. She heard a small huff and saw Grey Wind laying down in the corner, his eyes fixated on her. She raised her finger to her lips to silence the dire wolf's small whines as she made her way over to Robb and smiled, looking at him fondly as he slept. She crept over towards his bedside and knelt beside him, brushing back his curls that had gathered on his sweat ridden forehead and inspected his face with a curiosity.

 _I have too much to lose now. The realm will surely burn if I do not douse out the flames._

* * *

 _King's Landing_

Cersei Lannister

"My birds have reported that Princess Boudicca has grown closer to Robb Stark." Varys said, sighing deeply as he folded his hands together, as everyone listened intently to the Spider's words, including herself. "They are to be married."

 _What?_ Cersei thought, her green eyes narrowing and darkening as she dug her long nails into the table, as she eyed the Spider carefully, and knew that the words he spoke were true. And let out a shaky sigh, leaning back in her seat as she downed another goblet of wine.

"My little birds have told me _many_ interesting things about the Princess Boudicca," Varys said slyly, a hint of a smile on his face as he clasped his hands together underneath his sleeves. The Small Council was silent as everyone listened intently, including herself to the Spider's words as he spun his web of tales about her eldest daughter. "It is said that Princess Boudicca has grown rather _fond_ of Robb Stark."

"How fond?" Cersei asked sharply, staring at him intently.

"They are to be married," Lord Varys informed her.

"What?" Joffrey roared, his voice echoing off the walls. "How dare she!"

 _What?_ Cersei thought, her entire being stiffening as her green eyes darkened and narrowed on the Spider, she eyed him carefully as her long nails dug into the table. She knew that the words he spoke were true. Cersei let out a shaky sigh, her brow lifting as she stared at her blond haired son intently before she leant back in her seat and downed her seventh goblet of wine that evening. All of the Small Council were staring at her instead of her son, watching her every action and move. _They will be quick to deem me a traitor if I so much blink at the wrong time,_ Cersei thought in disdain.

"Boudicca is _your_ sister," Cersei points out calmly, her face blank despite the worry she felt. "I told you once and I will tell you again, she would _never_ betray us. Your younger sister and brother are with her, Joff. Your sister was already betrothed to Robb Stark during our time at Winterfell. Your older sister is smart, she may be negotiating for them to free your uncle Jaime. As we speak she could have thrown herself to the wolves for us."

"And why would the girl be possessed to do such a thing?" Pycelle asked, his voice bored and tired causing her lips to twist into a sneer.

"Think about it," Her brother began raising his goblet to his lips. "What does a rebellious, vengeful woman need? An army, of course, and an alliance."

"Should Boudicca marry Robb Stark...she would be Queen of the North," Littlefinger commented softly, turning to face Joffrey but she could see the hint of smugness in his eyes as he stared at her son, it seemed his words were riling him up. "If she gains an alliance she will not only have Lord Stannis' army backing her but she will also have the North and Riverlands backing her. Your sister is growing stronger each day, that is something to be feared, Your Grace."

"My sister is a traitorous whore!" Joffrey sneered. "Her army will are savages, they have no intelligence. They are nothing but wild animals, my sister can have them backing her for all I care."

"I believe we should remain patient, my King," Varys replied calmly. "My birds have also told me that Princess Boudicca and Lord Stannis intend to wage war on King Renly. If we remain vigilant-"

"Where is my uncle Renly now?" Joffrey snapped, interrupting him.

"Lord Renly is currently at Bitterbridge. He is apparently hosting another tourney," The eunuch answered and at this, her son erupted into a cruel laughter.

"Another tourney?" Joffrey leered. "My degenerate, pathetic uncle hosting more tourney's than my father ever has."

"This gives us more time to prepare," Tyrion voiced with a heavy sigh. Her imp of a brother turned to Ser Bronn, the new Lord Commander of the City Watch after her brother rid them of Ser Janos. Though, she did not know he would replace Ser Slynt with _that_. Her eyes narrowed as she looked on in disdain at the man. She was angered by this and insulted that he let a mere sellsword become the Lord Commander of the city. She calmed her temper, though, knowing that her father would be satisfied by them being rid of Ser Janos. _I want every man that stood by and let Joffrey do that to her gone,_ she called Tyrion's words. "What are our standing forces at the moment, Lord Commander?"

"Aroun' ten thousand, give or take," Bronn replied vaguely with a shrug of his shoulders as he leant back in his chair.

"And they have over a hundred thousand men," Tyrion drawled. "That is not enough to stop them. The city will be in their hands in mere minutes."

"We must have more men than this!" Cersei snapped. "The Crownlands. They must come to our aid. Tell them that they must come to the defence of their King."

"I have come to believe that many have raised their banners for Princess Boudicca," Lord Varys informed them, causing her to still. "It seems many have not taken to kindly to what Joffrey has done."

" _Traitors_!" Her son roared, crying out in outrage as he stood abruptly from his chair, knocking it over along with many goblets of wine in the process. His green eyes were lit like wildfire. "I am the King! And they _dare_ conspire against me! I will have their heads, the whole lot of them! I want them dead! All of them! I want each and every one of them dead! Kill them! Kill them all!"

"And how do you propose we do that?" Tyrion retorted. "We cannot kill them all. After all, we have your uncle marching on our doorstep. The Mad King wanted all of his subjects dead, look where that got him."

"How dare you!" Her son screeched.

"Do not worry, Joff," Cersei said soothingly, trying to calm down her son and her eyes narrowed at the little imp for angering her son. "We willA be safe once your grandfather arrives. I promise you."

"If King's Landing falls to either Boudicca or Renly," Tyrion retorted. "The game is over."

"Where is my uncle Stannis?" Joffrey demanded, huffing a breath.

"As of now, he remains in Dragonstone," Littlefinger says confidently. "Though, I was informed that he is making plans to set sail for Storm's End soon."

"And...and what of Boudicca?" Cersei asked, after a long period of tense silence.

"Princess Boudicca will ride for Bitterbridge," Varys stated. "It will either end in war or in peace."

* * *

Author's Note: Hey, hopefully you like Chapter's Sixteen and Seventeen. I would like to thank everyone who has read this story, followed it, made it one of their favourites and of course I would like to give a massive thank you to everyone that has reviewed. If you have any questions about Boudicca or a certain chapter, feel free to ask and I will happily answer them.

 _Reviews-_

Saint River: Stannis will be mentioned in chapters to come and will be eventually making an appearance. I'm glad you liked her speech, there will be definitely more speeches from her soon. Thank you for pointing out that mistake, I made a change to it. Robb wanting to marry Boudicca will cause a few problems and you can look forward to a historical parallel soon involving Boudicca. I was at a bit of a crossroads with 'Of Wolves of Winter' but I can say that an update will be this week.

RHatch89: Thank you!

celticank: Thank you, hopefully you like this double update although I can't say anything just yet involving the Red Wedding.

sassygirl9811: I hope you like this double update! Unfortunately all the main action between the Karstark's will be happening when Boudicca was away at Bitterbridge butting heads with her uncle but I can say that tension will start to rise now that Boudicca has excepted the betrothal.

jean d'arc: Thank you! I hope this double update doesn't disappoint. A lot of character's that haven't been mentioned in a while will start to crop up again, especially Arya. The Frey's definitely won't take to Boudicca or Robb very well. Yep, the adventures with Tyrion did happen and there will be a scene between Catelyn and Boudicca soon. I'm glad you like how I've portrayed Cersei, I still wanted to give her the qualities I love to hate her for (she's one of my favourite characters) but I also wanted to give her the qualities she has as a mother.


	18. Chapter Seventeen

_Bitterbridge_

Boudicca Baratheon

It has been one week since she had last spoken to her Lannister uncle and now she was to speak with her Baratheon uncle as she rode to Bitterbridge, with a small handful of men. Although Robb urged and offered her to bring an army to Bitterbridge, she refused. It would not be right to initiate a fight with her uncle before trying to make peace with him rather than war. Nevertheless, Boudicca was dressed fully in her armour. She had wrapped herself in layers of steel until she no longer seen a woman but rather a warrior. With her long sword strapped to her back and daggers at either side of her waist, she felt prepared for a war. Ser Davos rode up beside her as they charged up the hill.

"Ser Davos," Boudicca began. "I have brought us to face death, now face it if you can."

"I intend to, Princess," Ser Davos answered gruffly.

Boudicca glanced to see a man upon a horse riding up to her and recognised the man as he was a part of Robb Stark's Small Council he had formed, Brynden Tully. He gave her a curt nod and forced his horse forward, nearer to her side and handed her a piece of parchment. She took the piece of parchment firmly in her hand and inspected the seal. It was the sigil of House Stark, she hastily broke the wax seal. Boudicca glanced at the familiar cursive writing and took in the words before glancing at Lord Tully.

"A letter from King Robb. He asked of me to accompany you while he takes on Tywin's forces as they continue to ravage the Riverlands. The Mountain is leading most of the attacks on the villages. My nephew, Lord Edmure has been housing the small folk in Riverrun. It seems that the small folk think that you will help them," Lord Brynden informed her, though his brows furrowed even further as he tilted his head to the side. "Are you afraid, lass?"

"I must be," Boudicca said as she swallowed roughly and laughed breathlessly raising a shaking hand to show him. "I'm pissing myself actually."

"Good," Blackfish retorted, causing her own brows to furrow. "I have come to learn that everything that you seek is on the other side of fear itself, never rid yourself of that fear, Princess. In the end, it is the only thing that keeps you sane. I remember the first time I engaged in battle, I was shaking. I was a man barely out of childhood. I had grown up Southern. All I could think of was the fear and I embraced and when I did, the next day I woke up stronger than I was yesterday. I had faced a battle and I had lived. I lived through a time where crowns were passed around as easily as coins. You won't die a good death if you don't fear, Princess. Your words inspired an army, that is true but you need to put those words to worth. Those promises that you made, you must keep them."

"The War of the Ninepenny Kings..." Boudicca trailed off, her eyes widening in amazement. "I never knew you fought in that war. Did you fight alongside Ser Barristan?"

"Aye," Lord Tully told her. "And your grandfathers, Tywin Lannister and Steffon Baratheon."

"You knew Steffon Baratheon?" Boudicca asked, stilling slightly. _My father never talked about him,_ she thought. _It hurt him too much._

" _Knew_ him?" Lord Brynden scoffed. "I admired the man. I do not know of one person that did not have a good word to say about him. He was a giant amongst men. It is a sad tale I must tell you, stags of the storm used to graze the fields in their hundreds yet the love of war they held dwindled them down. Steffon Baratheon who fought the War of the Ninepenny Kings, rode into it eagerly alongside his father, seeking what stags sought best... _war_. After the war, the newly made storm Lord stood alone. To do war comes with a price, a price you must be prepared to make. You will see death surround you."

"I want you to write to your nephew. Tell the small folk that those that harmed them will pay in blood and that help is on the way," Boudicca replied, gifting him a small but visible smile. "I want them to know that their fight will be recognised and appreciated. I want the Lion Lord to know that the people of the Riverlands will not let their homes be taken without a damned fight. After I have knocked some sense into my uncle, I will travel back to Riverrun and talk with the leaders of their villages."

"Do you reckon you will come to blows with Renly?" Ser Davos inquired, causing her to turn and face the Onion Knight.

"The Tyrell's have him in their prickly clutches," Boudicca sighed, letting her eyes flutter close as she thought painfully of her uncle. "My uncle is a kind man but sadly he is an ambitious one and although I may not have lived a long life I have come to know that ambitious men do not make good rulers much less Kings. He will not make a good King. He is nevertheless a part of the game, he has become a pawn to the Tyrell's. They are one of the biggest and most influential players of all. They are _very_ ambitious."

"I may not know much about them but I would have thought that the Tyrell's would be better than Lannister's?" The Onion Knight questioned, she reopened her eyes at this.

"There is no different between a rose and a lion. The lions have sharp claws. The roses have sharp thorns. They both ensnare people," She replied, looking to Ser Davos. "They are equally ambitious as they are wealthy. My father was trapped by the Lannister's like my uncle is trapped by the Tyrell's. The leaders of both houses have two of the most politically astute minds I have ever come to know, my grandfather and Lady Olenna Tyrell. I have only met the Queen of Thorns twice but her mind is as sharp as her namesake. I must admit, I am rather frightened should I come to face them. Although the Queen of Thorns is not one for war, however, they do have the largest army."

"How did you come to meet Lady Olenna?" Blackfish asked. "King Robert despised House Tyrell."

"My mother," Boudicca replied and with that she fell into a bitter silence.

She always thought both her uncles would support her after her father's death, she was sadly mistaken. _Stannis. Renly. Shireen._ They were the last Baratheon's other than herself, should she or her uncles fall the throne would fall to her little cousin, Shireen. A storm or a war has ended the lives of her ancestors and she wondered for a mere moment if that is how she will die, by storm or by war. Lord Renly was her uncle, blood of her blood and he was always kind to her.

He always had a kind word to say to her. She recalled the times when she was teased and taunted by her brother for being a wild animal and she remembered when he took her sobbing younger self aside and their eyes met. _Do not pay attention to the likes of that little shite, fierce girl,_ her uncle had said to her with a fond smile. _Their words mean nothing to the likes of a Baratheon._ And if she, as a child had the ability to know of the future, her younger self would be greatly disturbed her older self. _Look at what I have become,_ Boudicca thought.

Boudicca and her small company reached the outer skirts of the Tyrell-Baratheon encampment and she was taken aback by the mere size of it and the array of colours that were flying above her head. All word that had been passed onto her about the Rose-Stag alliance was the truth. The camp was thriving was life and looked as if it suited a hundred thousand men. All of a sudden as she rode into the camp, she was consumed by a sea of tents and banners.

 _My father was a stag in a lion den's,_ Boudicca thought as she rode further into the camp. _My uncle is a stag drowning in flowers._ She tried to hide her disdain at the green and golden stags and thought about what her father would think or even her uncle Stannis, either way, she knew her father nor her uncle would be pleased with the sight that greeted them. _We are supposed to graze the fields, we are supposed to make people trembled before our very fury, our storm._

"Halt!" A Reach Lord commands, causing her and her company to stop abruptly.

"Let us past," Boudicca demands fiercely.

"State your-"

"I am Boudicca of the House Baratheon," Boudicca proclaims, causing several people around them to still and turn to face her, she felt many eyes on her at that moment but she found herself uncaring for them. "The First of Her Name, The Bring of Storms and the rightful heir to the Iron Throne and I demand an audience with my uncle, _Lord_ Renly of the House Baratheon. Is that clear enough for you, ser?"

The man nodded and eyed her warily as she rode through the crowd that parted hesitantly as they let her and her company further into the encampment. Boudicca found it took little to no effort to find out where her uncle was, as all she had to do was follow where the most noise and attention was drawn to. She dismounted her horse and stood, assessing the large crowd and listened intently to the shouts and cheers. _A tourney?_ Boudicca thought, looking on dumbfounded. _The whole country is in ruins. The Riverlands is ablaze and he is hosting a tourney?_

"What an arse!" Blackfish grunted angrily as he dismounted his horse and approached, taking in the scene unfolding in front of them. "A bloody _tourney?_ "

At the far end of the circle of people is where she spotted her uncle. Her uncle was sat, wearing his distinctive green and gold armour with a golden crown of antlers, resting proudly upon his dark locks. Beside him sat a woman of utterly breathtaking beauty, far more beautiful than herself or any other woman she has come across, even her own Queen mother. The woman had eyes of a doe and dark, brown locks that were piled atop of her head where a smaller golden crown lay. The woman was Lady Margaery of House Tyrell. Both her uncle and the rose were seated side by side on a heightened platform, surrounded by men wearing different coats of armour. _A rainbow guard?_ Boudicca questioned with a raised brow.

Inside of the circle, she saw that a melee was taking place. Ser Loras Tyrell, the Knight of Flowers was the first competitor and she watched as he moved swiftly on his feet towards the second competitor. The flowering knight's opponent was a tall knight, that towered over him in blue armour and if she were certain, the knight will undoubtedly tower over herself. Boudicca saw that the knight held a shield that represented House Tarth and she frowned at this, _his following is indeed large and wide._

She found herself entranced by their movements as they managed to land an equal amount of blows and she raised a brow, noticing that Ser Loras looked exhausted as he made a weak attempt to strike the man but the man in the blue armour bashed Ser Loras's idiotic jewel encrusted shield that caused her to wince when the jewels caught the light, reflecting the light to her eyes. _I wonder how long they have been at it?_ Boudicca stared intently at them and saw Ser Loras's hands shake as he tried to hold his sword and noted that fatigue must be setting in.

 _I may face them both in battle the morrow,_ Boudicca thought and she was deeply disturbed by the thought of battling her uncle and sentencing _good_ men to death. _No man is innocent,_ Boudicca knew of that but that did not mean that they were not good men. Those men that fought for Robb were good men. They were loyal perhaps to a fault. Boudicca did not know if she should praise such men for their loyalty or degrade them for their stupidity. _A loyal man is a dead man, their Lord Stark proves that. He lost his head for loyalty._

Boudicca found her eyes averting back to her uncle and the rose as they cheered loudly for Ser Loras. Her uncle was blissfully unaware of her presence. She watched on carefully and as she was about to ask Ser Davos and Lord Brynden a question, the knight in blue had tackled Ser Loras roughly to the ground and her eyes widened at the feral scream the man in blue let out. Ser Loras was pinned to the ground merely by a knee and she looked on in wonder as a dagger was drawn to Ser Loras' face.

"I yield...I yield!" Ser Loras shouted, raising his hands in surrender and with that her uncle rose to his feet, clapping loudly.

"Well fought!" Renly exclaimed and gestured towards the mysterious blue knight. "Approach!"

The knight did not hesitate to obey and she watched in amusement as Ser Loras scrambled to his feet. Boudicca found herself taking pleasure in the look of irritation on Ser Loras Tyrell's face as the knight shoved passed him harshly and approached her uncle. The knight knelt in front of her uncle Renly and her uncle smiled proudly and widely down towards the victor dressed in blue. He clapped once more for the knight before all fell silent once more.

"You may rise and remove your helm," Renly ordered with a large grin.

The knight obeyed and rose to their feet, although it seemed they were struggling for a moment or two due to the weight of their armour and without hesitation, they removed their helm, causing everyone around her to fall into a stunned silence, including herself as she stared on with wide eyes, she could hear Ser Davos grumble at her side causing her to turn to him and his shocked face. It seemed the only one that was not shocked was her uncle.

"Gods be good," Ser Davos breathed causing her to give him a sidelong glance.

"Brienne of Tarth," Blackfish remarked.

"You are all your father promised and more, my Lady," Renly said fondly as he chuckled. "I have seen Ser Loras bested once or twice but never in such a fashion-"

"My love," Margery interrupts with a small smile. "My brother fought rather valiantly, did he not?"

"I agree, my Queen," Renly responds. "However, Brienne of Tarth is our champion. You may ask anything of me that you so desire. If it is within my power, of course, it shall be yours."

"Your Grace-" Brienne stated, kneeling once more. "I ask for the honour of a place in your Kingsguard. I will be one of your Seven. I pledge my life and sword to you."

"Done!" Her uncle replied immediately. "Rise, Brienne the Blue."

"Your Grace," The man that escorted them through camp stepped forward. "I present to you-"

"I do not need an introduction," Boudicca interrupts, taking a step forward. "I am his niece."

The crowd parted and all heads turned to face her and she wondered what a sight she must make to see; a woman that towered over most men dressed in black armour followed by a lion cub, that was reaching her knees, snarling and hissing ferociously with several armed men at her side. The crowd hurriedly parted, some hurling threats to the lion as Orion brushed past them, making a clearing for her to approach before she said anything to her uncle, her gaze averted to Ser Loras and she could not help but let a smirk appear on her face.

"You don't deserve that sword. A highly trained pretty boy bested by a woman," Boudicca taunted, enjoying the look of annoyance setting on Ser Loras' features. "Your embarrassment will be a song of the ages."

"By the Gods! I heard what Joffrey did to you, I will gift you his head once I have taken King's Landing!" Her uncle swore as loud cheers and chants were heard, almost deafening her. He leant forward in his seat, concern lingering on his features but as she looked into his eyes, his eyes held no care. "It is wonderful to see that you are safe and well! My niece, may I introduce you to my Queen, Margaery of House Tyrell. I have expected you for so long after I heard of your escape from King's Landing. When I heard what he did to you...I was furious, to say the least."

"Lady Margaery," Boudicca said curtly, giving her a firm nod.

"We welcome you, Princess Boudicca. I am deeply sorry for the loss of your father," Margaery said with a small but kind smile. "I would be at a loss if I lost my father."

"I thank you for your kindness," Boudicca said courteously, with another nod of her head. "I accept your gracious welcome. I must say this has been the first time I have been greatly received in moon's worth, despite neither of you knowing of my arrival. It is a kindness I will gladly accept."

"Would you care for a goblet of mulled wine, niece?" Renly asked, gesturing to a servant at his side causing her to stiffen when she felt Blackfish' grunt in displeasure at her side.

"My Lord-" Boudicca began but was interrupted.

" _Your Grace,_ " Brienne chided. "You should kneel before the rightful King."

"The rightful King?" She mocked, a soft hint of a smile appearing on her face. "My rightful King is currently in Riverrun, fighting for _his_ land and people, fighting for justice and fighting against the deceivers of the crown. The rightful King shall be my husband soon enough. I give you my sincere apologies, though, had I known my King was here I would have surely stripped down to my corset and fur cloak for him. Or if it was my late father perhaps, I would surely have polished my armour or burnt a few of these banners."

"I suggest you know your place you wretched woman," A voice spat causing her to turn sharply to face an ageing man with a sneering face. "You ought to be smacked for your insolence. I suggest you bend the knee, girl."

"You should learn some common courtesy," Blackfish sneered. "Last I heard, House Baratheon is House Tarly's better."

"King Renly has been crowned by the banners of the Stormlands and of the Reach," Lord Tarly replied icily.

" _King Renly_?" Boudicca repeated impassively, turning to look her uncle in the eye. "My father's body was not yet cold and you already wanted your arse on the throne. You are ambitious but not entirely wise, uncle." She took a further step towards the platform, her green eyes never leaving her uncle's blue eyes. "I may not know much when it comes to the line of succession but I do know that you are not capable of ruling. You never took your role as Master of Laws seriously, so why should I take you seriously as a King? I do know my claim counts for something. Need I remind you, that I can hold you accountable for acts of treason. You wanted to kill my mother and make Lady Margaery, my father's new wife? You were planning to make her Queen. You planned that with Ser Loras."

The Lords and Ladies that were gathered, were muttering and murmuring to themselves. The Reach Lords and Ladies looked offended and angered but those of the Stormlands looked unsure about it, eyeing her and her uncle with an uneasiness. Margaery Tyrell looked on at her with a frown but it appeared she had no understanding of it, going by the shocked look and hidden disgust on her face. Though going by the angered voice of Ser Loras, it was he who would most likely run her through.

"Your father was a usurper," Her uncle pointed out sharply. "If he was able to live with the blood on his hands, so shall I. I understand that you are hurt but-"

"My father rebelled against an unjust King. The Mad King. To betray the crown and the throne is one thing but to betray your own blood...tell me, dear uncle, will you be able to live with my blood on your hands?" Boudicca challenged fiercely, her eyebrow remaining quirked as her lips were pulled into a firm and thin line as she eyed him.

"The crown will not suit you nor Stannis," Renly said in disdain and she looked on insulted. "It will suit me not some boy King."

"Aye, a golden crown may suit you, that is true," She retaliated. "Though, I do not think a throne of iron will."

"Your uncle will make a glorious King," Ser Loras snarled. "Your uncle is well loved, favoured and also courageous. He may be ambitious like you claim but he is kind and caring. He has the makings of a great King."

"If Renly is no more than a kind, caring King in the making, then the Iron Throne will cut him into kind, caring pieces," Boudicca retorted. "Uncle, the Tyrell's have you by your balls and all because you have fallen for a pretty face. The only reason they are providing you with an army and are funding your war is because you are easy to manipulate. In the end, if you sit upon the Iron Throne, they will have you killed. You may _reign_ but you do not _rule."_

"You know nothing," Renly told her.

"I do know some things," Boudicca replied, scoffing as her eyes narrowed. "I know that you are a pawn. You are no player in this game."

"I can assure you, niece," Her uncle spoke up. "I am no pawn but rather a player. Join me, Boudicca. And together, together we will have our vengeance."

"I know of the game. I have witnessed it all my life," Boudicca said, her tone softening as her eyes turned pleading. "Uncle Renly. They have surrounded you in roses, we are stags. Ours if the fury. We were born and are meant to lay waste to armies, to bring storms, to conquer and burn banners, to tame seas! Yet you parade around in roses, grazing their fields. Your wife is the daughter of a wealthy Lord, her brother is in your personal guard...this is all too familiar. My father was surrounded by Lannister's, the way you are surrounded by Tyrell's...tell me, uncle, why should I trade a stage ruled by lions for a stage ruled by roses?"

"House Tyrell is not House Lannister, Boudicca," Her uncle said with a heavy sigh. "You are too blinded by hatred to see it and for that, I pity you."

"You see too much _good_ in this world, uncle," She retorted, her voice cold as the ice of the North. "I bet they promised you things, things that were by right, was not theirs to gift you. I have spies of my own uncle, I know of your plot. You were plotting with Ser Loras Tyrell to make Lady Margaery, my father's new Queen."

"It was never set in motion," Uncle Renly replied carefully, his voice wavering. "Margaery is my Queen."

"True. You may speak the truth but back then, if my father hadn't of died...you would have followed the plan through, wouldn't you? Tell me, what would have happened to _my_ mother?" Boudicca hissed, her features darkening as she threateningly stepped towards the platform, the Rainbow Guard stepped forward, drawing their swords but Renly raised his hand, stopping them just as Ser Davos held her back, gripping her arm tightly. "If Margaery was to become the new Queen...my mother would have had to be _dead_. I ask of you uncle, what would have happened to my mother? Would you have snuck into her chambers in the dead of night and slit her throat or perhaps, would you have had her ' _fall ill_ '? Or would the same fate befall me, my mother and siblings like with Princess Elia and her children. Would we be dragged out from our chambers and slaughtered in front our mother too?"

"I..I...no, I would never have harmed you," Her uncle stammered, shaking his head vigorously.

"No one. It does not matter if they are high born or low born, no one will ever harm my mother or siblings. No one. You do not know what I am capable of, especially when it comes to protecting my mother and siblings, uncle. You do not know how far I would go and I do not think you would want to witness how far I will go," Boudicca said venomously, her eyes flickering up to Renly's green and gold banner. "If you so much had touched my mother or siblings, those days that you were plotting, I would have burned our very house to the ground until nothing but ash remained of us. And look at that shit stain you call a banner, our ancestors would be dying from shock and outrage had they been alive today. Our house colours are black and gold not green and gold. You might as well have the Tyrell women sew pretty red roses onto the banner for you."

"The colours represent my alliance with House Tyrell," He answered stiffly.

"My father was allied with House Lannister," She sneered. "Yet he never had the need to change the colours of our banner."

"Why are you here?" Her uncle snapped, losing his patience.

"You are my uncle, you have offered me the gentlest of words on the darkest of days," Boudicca said sincerely. "You are blood of my blood and bone of my bone, and I have come here to convince you to see reason. I want you to give up this foolish ambition. I want you to join forces with Stannis and I and fight against our shared enemy. We are stags. United we stand, united we fall. We should be fighting against the Lannister's, we should not be fighting each other. I do not want to wage war with you uncle but my hand is being forced."

"You are merely a girl, Boudicca. Granted, you may wield a sword and wear armour," He said, his stiff expression softening once more. "You remind me so much of my father and that makes my heart ache for you, dear girl. It really does, especially after what Joffrey had made you endure. However, you are too much like Robert. Your father never welcomed nor wanted the Tyrell's to the court and neither would you."

"I am not my father," Boudicca said with a frown. "The Tyrell's have turned you against your own blood, your own house. The schemes of ambitious people have left my kingdom and my people in ruins. The Tyrell's and the Lannister's are making this kingdom, making my kingdom bleed. I will not forget that nor will I forgive that."

"You are much like Stannis," Renly sighed. "Those are his words that you speak, not your own. Why should I care for the people of the Riverlands?"

"Fuck you!" Blackfish snarled, readying to draw his sword but she held him back.

"You are holding a _tourney_!" She replied, raising her voice as she glared at him. "The small folk are suffering and you are holding a tourney! If you did take your supposed and false role seriously, you would be helping them! You would never turn you back to them! The small folk do have a voice albeit not as powerful but they still have a voice and I intend to raise it for them. They will be heard uncle, I promise that. You may say what you like about Stannis but you cannot deny that at least he takes his role seriously. You prance about with not a care. How dare you!"

"This is the game of thrones, niece," He answered with a smile.

"I like to play games, perhaps you can enlighten me about this game that you are playing?" Boudicca challenged before her voice turned solemn. "You are not suited for the throne nevertheless ruling over Westeros. For the sake of our family, for the sake of our name, I beg you to reconsider. I do not wish to face you on the battlefield like Stannis does. It will not end well."

"Those banners," Her uncle pointed out, gesturing around them. "They fight in my name."

"I will not bow nor tremble to the likes of you, do you think I am easily frightened?" Boudicca asked, turning slightly. "I see men who are fighting for nothing. I see one hundred thousand men that will end up either dead or surrendering. If they asked for you to fight for them, would you do the same as I would?"

"I am the King. Who are you to challenge me?" Renly questioned with a raised brow, leaning forward in his seat.

"My army may be smaller than yours," Boudicca told him. "Yet they have heart."

"It matters little how much heart they have, niece," He said, his tone soft and his eyes sad. "I will hold you and your siblings a grand funeral, for you will not defeat me."

"Then I will not make peace with you but rather, I will do war!" Boudicca proclaimed viciously, as she and her company turned to leave. "I will defend my claim and my people. You may fight me if you so wish but I shall prove you faced the wrong woman into your very beards."

And with that Boudicca approached her horse, mounting him and left her saddened pawn of an uncle behind her but she also found herself leaving with a larger following than she arrived with. Her eyes widened when she noticed people following behind her company on foot or on a horse but nevertheless, Ser Davos gave her a proud look and gave her a firm nod, causing a small smile to appear on her face despite the settling dread in her stomach.


	19. Chapter Eighteen

_Riverlands_

Boudicca Baratheon

"The Gods will never decide how I live or what I will die to defend," Boudicca said calmly, peppering kisses on the foreheads of her siblings as she knelt beside them, holding them close to her chest as the men outside of her tent were preparing for the long battle ahead of them. It has been a week since her battle of words with her uncle and now her battle would be with swords. Boudicca kept her siblings close, her eyes staring into their watery ones as she hushed them softly. "I will come back to you, my cubs. I will come back to you with a broken banner of a flowering stag, I promise."

"Don't go, Icca," Tommen whispered, tears falling down his face as hiccuped and sobbed. "We do not want you to go. _Please._ "

"I have to," Boudicca murmured, resting her chin against the crown of his head as she stroked Myrcella's blonde hair. "I need to. _For us_."

"If you are fighting for us, then we do not want you to," Myrcella stated firmly, pulling away from her and eyed her with a fierceness that was all too familiar. A fierceness that reminded her of their mother and for a mere moment, she forgot that her sister had only just turned nine. "You cannot go. I command you to stay _here_."

"P-Please," Her brother whimpered, grasping onto her tighter than he ever has. "You can have your soldiers fight the war for you...do not go, you cannot go. I won't let you."

"I must," She replied solemnly, wiping the tears from their cheeks softly as she pulled away from them, although it pained her to do so. "No matter what happens to me on this day, I do not want you to weep for me little lions. If I die, I won't go to the hunting grounds where our ancestors reside...I will forever roam waiting for the day you are returned to me, only then shall I move on. I will look death in the eye and tell him to go fuck himself. I will return to you, I promise that."

"And mother? Will you wait for her too?" Tommen asked softly, causing her to nod as she shifted to stand.

" _Yes,_ " Boudicca told them. "And mother."

The flaps of the tent opened causing her to stiffen and she turned to face Robb, she swallowed the lump that was present in her throat that made it difficult for her to breathe. He was standing there, dressed in full armour with a hardened yet solemn expression on his face, his blue eyes held a sadness and he also held the same expression she held on her own which caused her to tremble slightly. It seemed by the look in his eyes, he made a similar goodbye to his mother and his sister. Boudicca regained her composure quickly as she straightened up. _It's time,_ his expression told her.

The man was fighting a war with her, a war that was rightfully hers yet he was fighting it with her and she would forever be in his debt. And one way or another, she would always repay her debts like her uncle Tyrion taught her to do so. Boudicca has never felt such pain than she has now when she turned away from her sobbing siblings and walked stiffly towards Robb, the only sound in the tent was the way her armour moved with her body.

"Wait!" Myrcella begged to cause Boudicca to still and turn. The little blonde haired girl of nine ran up to her, placing a piece of cloth in her hand. " _For luck."_

Boudicca inspected the piece of white cloth with a fondness although it made her eyes sting, tears gathering in the corners of her eyes but she pushed them back and continued to stare at the beautiful stitching although at certain parts it was crooked but it mattered not to her. In a white open field, there stood proudly a pouncing lion black of mane with green eyes. The lion was ready for war, as was she. Boudicca took the cloth, inhaling the sweet scent of it before pressing it to her trembling lips. Her eyes met Myrcella's and she gave her a soft smile albeit it was a false one but to her sister, she did not know the difference.

"I shall wear this with honour and with pride," Boudicca vowed, causing her sister's lips to twitch into a smile. "I will keep it close to me, I promise."

"I love you!" Tommen wept, more tears falling from his eyes.

"As do I," Boudicca told him firmly.

 _If I look back at them, I will not be able to leave them,_ Boudicca thought and struggled to not look over her shoulder at her weeping siblings as she retreated from the tent to collect her shield, sword and horse along with Robb. As she walked beside him, she took in the heavily armoured men and the banners that were consuming her in colour. Both she and Robb remained silent, though she decided that she liked this silence that they shared but suddenly she was drawn from her thoughts when his fingers wrapped around her left hand, causing her to look up at him with a startled look but it softened when he gave her a small, encouraging smile and brought her hand up to his mouth. He pressed a gentle kiss to the back of her hand before she, in turn, yanked his hand and brought it up to her own lips, doing the same.

"No matter what happens," Robb said, his voice hushed and deep. "My last thoughts will be of your eyes."

* * *

 _Stormlands_

 _My father fought his first battle at my age,_ Boudicca remarked to herself. _This will be my first battle, a battle I did not want._ Although she felt odd, to say the least, she felt _calm_ and it felt as if she were accepting whatever fate she had. If she lived or died, she had made her peace with the world. Yet, she could not deny that the idea of a battle did not fill her with a hunger. This battle would show the entirety of Westeros and her brother, that she was no feeble woman that would hide behind her men or betrothed. _I bow to no man._

Her uncle Stannis was continuing to lay sieges throughout the lands and four days after her departure from Bitterbridge did her uncle lay siege to Storm's End. Boudicca was certain that word had by now reached _King_ Renly's ears, especially if had the likes of House Tyrell informing him and according to her messengers, he had Ser Loras Tyrell take an entire force of twenty thousand men to fight back against Lord Stannis. This was the perfect moment to ride for her uncle Renly, who was nearing the Riverlands to fight her.

Although she was unseasoned in the way of war, she had picked up many things from the men, the warriors that she had surrounded herself with. Robb was further back with his Northern army but she and the Storm Lord's that declared for her, left at dawn to face her uncle who was ready to face her with over fifty thousand men. _You will never win this war,_ her father's voice was roaring at her as she rode up the hill.

At first, she had eight thousand men that would back her that were not a part of Robb's army. Her forces doubled to sixteen thousand after she had the spat with her uncle at Bitterbridge. At her back, she had forty thousand men wanting to fight for her consisting of folk from the Stormland's, the Riverlands and the North. Now, she would face a sea of gold and green. This caused her to take the cloth her sister had gifted her with and pressed it to her lips and nose, inhaling deeply before tucked it back into her black leather glove.

The two armies that were facing each other, could not be any more different. Renly's force consisted of only cavalry, while she had her army split was cavalry and infantry. His troops were adorned with the best weaponry and armour Tyrell gold could buy. His knights were in cream while the rest of his army was in green, armed with lances and swords of various lengths. Her army mostly consisted of foot soldiers, wild and untameable as a storm itself, their bodies bound in chain mail and boiled leather with black armour. Though her army was equipped with weapons of their choosing ranged from axes to swords to bows.

Her army was outnumbered, she knew from the moment she rode up the hill and saw as the metal roses of gold and green created a vast deadly meadow with their sharp thorns. The forces Renly had consisted of mostly cavalry while only the Lord's in her army possessed a horse but even then her own cavalry was outmatched by the greatness of her uncle's. Unlike her uncle's, her army consisted of her storm of soldiers, wild and untamed, unconquered and unbeaten despite what they were facing. His army was adorned in heavy armour unlike her own who had chain mail covering their bodies and boiled leathers with a black or brown breastplate. Her army did not wear helms like her uncle's army did. _They will sink,_ Boudicca's initial thought was as she eyed the marshland that his army was situated in. Her eyes landed on the rows and rows of lances and great swords whilst she looked back at her own army gathering behind her to see them equipped with weapons suited to them ranging from axes to swords to maces to bows.

It was a reassurance that she not alone to command the army and she had the guidance of Robb Stark, Ser Davos, Blackfish, Smalljon Umber, Maege Mormont,Galbart Glover and on the behalf of her uncle, he sent Ser Ormund of House Wylde. They were given little time to prepare for the battle but nevertheless they had a strategy, it gave her confidence that Robb and the Northern forces were hidden in the woods at either side of her uncle's army, surrounding them. Her eyes looked down to see the messenger she had sent out riding towards her, breaking the deathly silence that had claimed the air as they all readied themselves to strike at any given moment.

"Princess Boudicca," The messenger addressed handing her the small piece of parchment.

 _I want you to bend the knee of die, do not make such a foolish decision._

Boudicca reread the words, glancing over to Renly's army and looked on in disdain. She tugged the reins on her horse, holding her arm up to stay the weapons and the movement of her men before she glanced at both Ser Davos, Blackfish and Ser Ormund who were leading by her side and gave a curt nod. They rode down the hill, charging towards Renly's army in silence, the only sound that was made was the hooves thundering against the ground. Her uncle rode through his army along with several of his bannermen, including his Rainbow Guard. Both she and her uncle meet in the middle of the battlefield, coming to a horse as they stared at each other in silence. The noise was broken by her uncle clapping albeit sarcastically at her, causing her eyes to narrow and her body to stiffen atop of her horse.

"I thank you, niece, for bending the-" Her uncle began but she laughed coldly.

"Who said I have ridden here to bend the knee?" Boudicca interjects, causing his eyes to narrow and his brow to raise.

"You will bend, Bringer of Storms. You will kneel before me, in front of your men and you will set an example to all those who dare oppose me by surrendering your army," Her uncle told her. "You will hail me the true King of Westeros and the Iron Throne. If you do so, I will pardon you for your treasonous acts against me. I will also pardon both your mother, your siblings and any treasonous man and woman for betraying their rightful ruler. My dear niece, your father nor your mother can protect you now. Why must you allow this to continue? Your men do not need to die. This is no place for a child, dismount from your horse girl and I will grant you and your sibling's freedom...but, you must take that Onion Knight and live out the rest of your days in the Free Cities. I will not allow you to stay in Westeros."

"I will not allow you to take my birthright. I bow nor kneel to no man. The words you speak are true," Boudicca told him, his brows furrowed but she continued, urging her horse forward slightly and began to circle him, her horse every so often nudging against his own, causing it to startle. "Our men do not need to die for the sake of us. That is why I wish for us to partake in combat. I want it to be just you and I. The victor will come out victorious while the other bends the knee. You nor I have to die for the sake of a crown."

"You honestly think I will risk everything I so desire?" Her uncle chuckles, eyeing her with great care as she rides back to face him after circling him. "I will not fight you niece...not alone."

"You will risk the lives of your men?" Boudicca questions. "Tell me, will they still fight for you after hearing those words?"

Her uncle merely looks at her with an impassiveness and turns back, riding with his Rainbow Guard back to his army, she hears him begin to shout commands. Her eyes widened and she turns her horse, they storm back up the steep hill, her uncle's roaring commands as he riles up his army echoing in her ears as she makes it back to her army that was still, silent but unsettled, shifting every now and then. The eyes of thousands were trained on her as she steadied her horse in front of them, looking over her shoulder at her uncle Renly before she turned to face her army again.

"He cries us traitors but we hold him no allegiance we hold this King no allegiance. He shall never receive our loyalty!" Boudicca began, her voice rising as she heard the shouts of commands from Renly's army but she remained undeterred by him and his army that was charging towards them. "We must rid ourselves of these monsters from our land! If we do not...these monsters will burn your homes, these monsters will slaughter your families and take your lives. My brother, I ask of you not to fight for glory or gold or titles as you will not get any but...fight for your freedom! I want you to fight for our freedom! I cannot give you your freedom but I will help you take it back from those who dare claim they rule you! Our enemies will die in their old world and together, together we will build a better one! And I vow as the Warrior is my witness, that those who dare try to enslave us will be consumed by the storm we will bring to them!"

She turned and charged down towards the horse, letting out a war cry as she unsheathed her sword and pointed it towards them. Her eyes take in the horses in their hundred storming towards her and she closes her eyes, inhaling a deep breath before she ushers her horse to go faster. She reopens her eyes and she watches as her uncle's archers draw and set loose a rain of arrows. Her eyes widen and she raises her shield up to cover her head as she galloped straight her uncle's army.

" _Charge!_ " Blackfish roared.

The men and the few women within her army let out a deafening roar that shook the very ground as the bulk of her forces ran down the hill with their weapons drawn and shields high to prevent them from getting hit by a stray arrow. Boudicca charges ahead of them, charging against her uncle's forces alone until an arrow hits her horse, causing her to fall roughly to the hard ground with a grunt as arrows continued to bring down her horse. She rolled to her side, pushing herself back onto her feet and clutched both her sword and shield tightly. Her downcast eyes looked up and she watched with wide eyes as the horses came for her and she closed her eyes tightly, gripping her sword even tighter than she had her eyes closed.

"If I don't see a bloodied sword!" Maege Mormont cursed. "I will tear your balls off!"

Her eyes reopen when her forces roughly pushed passed her and collided harshly against the charge of Renly's army, throwing them off guard. Boudicca stares on with her mouth agape as many men and horses die on impact. She watches as bodies and weaponry cover the ground. In the fray and chaos of it all, she dodges passed several men on horses who charge passed her in an attempt to take her life.

Her mind and heart both races as she takes in the battle and she notices out from the corner of her eye a man on horseback charging towards her, she rushes forward and swings her sword with force, the brutal strength cuts through the horse and the man flies from the horse landing on the ground with several curses. Boudicca unsheathes her sword from the downed horse and swings her sword once more, slicing through the chest of the men before she hastily moves on.

Boudicca's eyes flickered up as she takes in the death and blood that surrounded her before her eyes land on Renly, her horror filled face slowly filled with determination. He spots her in the battlefield and draws his own sword, leading the rest of his forces into the bloodshed. _A confused enemy is a dead enemy,_ Boudicca thought to herself as she recalled Ser Barristan's words from long ago echoing in her head. She ordered her army to head for the woods where the rest of her forces would be waiting. The ground would be uneven and those with heavy army would find it difficult to walk through the mud. The trees were the perfect shields. The army that awaited command in the woods would ambush them. Her eyes widened when she saw her uncle Renly's forces fire more arrows down on them. An arrow catches a soldier's leg and he falls to the ground, she rushes to him, dropping her shield and drags the man adorned with a Tully sigil to his feet, his cries of pain went unheard to her as they rush to the woods.

"Come on!"

Boudicca lets out a gasp and watches as the man drops from her hold with two arrows in his back, his vacant eyes staring up at her, she stares down at him in shock before slowly looking up. Boudicca turns slowly around and faces her smug faced uncle, letting out a roar, she turns and charges back into the battle. Boudicca drops both her shield and sword, picking up a nearby bloody axe that was embedded into a man and twirls it in her hand before she runs at two of her uncle's soldiers, she swings her axe and brings it down on his neck before she twirls and hits the man next to him underneath his arm. Boudicca runs through the battle, determined to reach and face her uncle. She sees five men run at her but they are knocked back by Blackfish, who impales three of them on his sword and knocks the other two back. She storms towards the man and brings her axe down on him before turning to the second to kill him but Blackfish already landed another blow to fifth and final man before he rode off.

Another foot soldier approaches her but she cuts him down, bring her next up into his jaw and kicks him to the ground, releasing her axe from his neck. Her eyes widened when she noticed the bodies that began to pile on the field and begins to lead her uncle into the woods as he races after her with his sword raised and his helm covering his face. Boudicca could hear the men from Renly's army cheer as they come after her and the remaining men from her forces as they retreated into the woods

The red armoured man of her uncle's Rainbow guard rode towards her with his lance pointed at her but as he grew closer, a large direwolf pounces at the man upon the horse, knocking him to the ground. Boudicca smiled slightly, despite the blood that splattered all over her body. _Grey Wind,_ she thought before turning swiftly around and saw Robb, smiling slightly at him before she disappeared into the woods as Grey Wind devours the red armoured man while Robb charged into the rest of the battle in the woods with his forces, emerging from the trees and cut off a quarter of her uncle's army, trapping them in the woods with nowhere to escape. Boudicca gripped her axe tightly and ran at a man who came near her, striking him down before she grasped his shield and knocked him to the ground, obtaining the heavy piece of precious metal.

Boudicca panted, her heart thundering in her chest before she clashed with a man, their axe and sword ringing out a deadly song as they fought. She threw her head back, butting her head against his own before raising her foot and kicked him to the ground, the man fell unconscious, blood running down his face, she looked to the axe that she held in her hands before glancing back down to the man before she left him there, deciding to let him live and continued in her search for her uncle. _I have never felt more alive,_ Boudicca remarked to herself as she ran through the woods, she felt like a feral animal and that is when she had come to understand why her father wanted to battle so much, why he longed for it and why her father loved the hunt. _The thrill of the chase,_ she thinks to herself as she weaved her way through the trees in search for her blue eyed uncle. At some point, she had twisted her ankle and was now limping quickly through the woods.

That is when she saw _him_ , adorned in his green and gold armour, antlers of gold that sat upon his green helm and he was wielding a decorated shield and long sword, cutting down many men in his path. It was her uncle. Boudicca blinked back any bitter tears she had and subconsciously stroked the cloth in her black leather glove. _Do this for them,_ her entire body screamed at her, from her heart to her mind. And without a second thought, she made her way towards her uncle Renly and called out to him before he could kill another soldier from her army.

" _Renly!"_ Boudicca roared.

He turned to face her, along with the remainder of his Rainbow Guard. Her uncle held a look of confliction on his face but he nodded and this time, his guard of colours made a move to kill her. The first man attempted to swing at her but she raised her axe and threw herself towards him, bringing her axe down, that it dug into both his helm and head. The strength of giving her brother and sister a better world to live in continued to strive and motivate her. The second man was forceful and brutal with his blows and she did not see the brown eyes of the vicious man staring at her, she saw the mad and malicious green eyes of her brother, Joffrey.

Her temper flared and she let out a battle cry, cutting him down her axe as she landed a blow to his leg, causing him to stumble to the ground with a pained scream. The rest of her army that was surrounding her were in battle, some were ducking in between trees to fight while others throwing punches and attacking with shields. This did not deter her as she approached her uncle.

"I have changed my mind," Her uncle told her as he dismounted from his white horse and ran for her, his sword drawn as she held up her axe, twirling it her hand as she waited to come to blows with him in a deadly dance. They would dance and their dance would create a storm that would ravage the lands and no one would dare stop them. "You and I, remember?"

"You wanted to harm my mother and siblings!" Boudicca hissed as their weapons clashed, the pushed against each other and pushed hard, trying to be rid of the other's weapon first. She pushed forward, nearing his face and her lips pursed into a snarl, her eyes were a storm as she growled at him. Although she felt an agonising pain from her leg, she continued to push against his will. "No one will ever harm them! From the birds in the sky to the beasts of the land to the fish in the sea! No one will touch them!"

Her uncle's eyes narrowed and he raised his knee, bringing his armoured knee to her right side, causing all of the air to leave her body and she grunted when he butted the hilt of his sword to her chin and nose causing her to stumble back, her body colliding harshly with a tree and this caused her to drop her axe but she gripped onto the shield she held. She reached up and tenderly touched her nose and looked down at her gloved hand to see blood, she wiped the blood on her leg before her downcast eyes looked up at her uncle and she glared at him through her dark lashes. Boudicca felt like her father then as her muscles clenched and with every bit of strength she held in her body, she hurdled the shield towards his chest, making him fly towards the ground but he managed to stumble back up and they continued their dance. This was no mere dance, one misstep and she would be killed. To make a mistake was not an option.

"You could have bent the knee!" Her uncle growled. "It didn't have to end this way!"

They clashed over and over, everything and everyone seemed to fade from her thoughts as they focused on their own battle, the attacks her uncle made were getting panicked and desperate as she blocked each blow from his sword with the large shield, she dropped the shield then and like a stag would clashed her own antlers with her uncle's causing him to let out a cry and with that, she grasped his arms and tackled him. They both rolled out of the woods and down the steep hill.

Boudicca tried to stumble painful back to her feet but as she did so, something heavy slammed into her back. At the sheer weight, she found herself unable to move and her vision darkened momentarily before she regained it. For a few moments, she let her eyes close in both pain and exhaustion but as she turned around to face them, her eyes landed on a nearby sword and she let out a raspy moan when she grasped it from relief.

Her teeth and jaw clenched when her hand that held the sword was pinned by a heavy boot. Her blurred eyes flickered up to meet her prideful uncle, she struggled against him and tried to regain the use of her sword arm, clenching the sword tight in her hold. Her uncle's eyes were shadowed by the antlered helm he wore and his sword was pointed directly at her neck, pressing harshly into her flesh, no doubt drawing blood. _He has a fury within him,_ Boudicca thought as she could hear him breathing heavily from rage.

"You little bitch!" Her uncle sneered, though she could hear that tears were threatening to fall from his eyes by the crack in his voice. "Do you...do you think I wanted to kill you? _You?_ My own flesh and blood. Do you think I wanted to be branded a kinslayer? I did not want this for you but I will be King and I will prove to you, to Stannis and to all those who that fight for you...that I am the King! You have lost, niece. How does it feel? Your siblings will die. Your betrothed and his family will die. And when I take King's Landing, your mother will die...you failed, you failed them...do you have any last words, Boudicca?"

"A man who claims he is King-" Boudicca swallowed, closing her eyes from the pain. "Is no true King."

As her uncle raised his sword high to bring it open her neck, he released his hold on her arm. Boudicca let her eyes flutter shut but as he was about to bring down his sword, she brought up her own, piercing him through the throat. Her eyes opened wide as she sat further up, holding the sword tightly in her hold as she drove it further into his neck as tears slide down her face and she let out heavy sobs from both pain and exhaustion. Her eyes widened in disbelief at what she had done and as she slides the sword from his neck, blood splattered on her then as she watched as his dying eyes landed on her face before her uncle, Renly Baratheon fell finally to the ground with a sickening thud.

At the sight of their fallen King, it appeared that the army of her uncle lost heart and those that had sworn their allegiance to House Tyrell, tried to retreat and some successfully managed to while those of the Stormland's that supported her uncle, dropped their weapons and fell to their knees in both defeat and surrender. Boudicca slowly rose to her feet and stared down at her uncle Renly in shock, her mouth agape and no noise but a gurgled sound came from her. She heard a scream that brought a chill down her spine, it was a scream of both anguish and sorrow and she watched as Brienne of Tarth rushed to the body of her uncle and cradled his corpse as she wept. _Did she love him too?_ Boudicca thought. The blonde haired woman removed her helm and looked up at her furiously, tears sliding down her face causing her to take a few steps back from the giant woman and her uncle.

" _Kingslayer!_ " Brienne of Tarth roared, her voice ended the battle as all fell silent.

Boudicca closed her eyes in both sadness and pain, shaking her head as tears fell from her eyes and she threw the sword she held away as if it had burned her and took a few more slow steps back away from her uncle. This was not how she wanted this to end, she did not want her uncle to die. It was never her intention to kill him. Her eyes reopened and she felt someone pulling her closer but all she could do was look down at her shaking, bloody hands that held her own blood. The blood of her uncle.

 _Will...Will I be some monster? Will my siblings look at me and recline from fear? Will I be despised like my uncle Jaime?_ Boudicca thought to herself, letting out breathless sobs as Brienne continued to roar, 'Kingslayer' and 'Kinslayer' towards her. The battle had finally taken its toll on her aching body. Her body was starting to betray her as her vision started to darken but before she let the darkness fully claim her, a strong pair of hands lifted her up, carrying her away from the monstrous act she had committed.

 _I am no Bringer of Storms, I am a Kingslayer. And a Kingslayer I will stay._

* * *

Author's Note: Hey, I hope you liked chapter eighteen. I would first like to thank all of you who are reading this story, who have made this one of your favourites and those of you who are following this story. I would like to give a massive thanks to everyone who left a review, you are all amazing and finally, if you have any questions regarding Boudicca or a chapter, feel free to ask! If you have a favourite or particular quote said by Boudicca, let me know in your review.

 _Reviews-_

ladyres: Yep, Renly did make a stupid move in saying that he will make a good king yet he basically says he doesn't care for the people he wishes to rule. I'm glad you support Boudicca and you will see some involvement with her and the small folk in the next chapter.

RHatch89: Thank you, I hope you like this chapter!

birdy: I hope you like chapter eighteen!

celticank: Thank you, I hoped you liked the battle between them.

Buttercupppc: Thank you and don't worry, I haven't dropped it. There should be a new update this week!

sassygirl9811: Thank you! Hopefully you liked chapter eighteen!

day2467: Thank you and no it isn't a waste of reviewing space and I'm glad you've brought it up, the Red Wedding will continue as planned but a lot more different things will, some of it will remain firmly canon but I have a few surprise deaths planned for it as well but I can safely say that Boudicca will manage to escape with her life.

swanqueen4: Thank you, I'm glad you like the fierceness of Boudicca! I always love writing about various relationships and the scenes I enjoy the most are always between the Stark's and her siblings, as I think it really shows her true character. Although Cersei has many faults and is depicted as a very ruthless character, her main trait is what she is like with her children and I wanted to emphasise that a bit with her and I didn't really want to go down a road where she is a minor character of sorts to the Baratheon child she has. I hope you like update!

Saint River: Boudicca does hate her grandfather and a lot of how she speaks is mostly through anger and sadness, though I won't mention yet but she witnessed something when her grandfather came to visit King's Landing when she was a child that stuck with her and what happened will be cropping up very soon. Davos Seaworth is one of my favourite character's on the show (though I love nearly every character) and I always loved the scenes he had with Shireen. Shireen may crop up in the future but I decided to have him form a bond with Boudicca, Myrcella and Tommen. Yep, the moment he said that, Renly lost any Riverland support, not that he had very much support from them though. I loved Blackfish in season 6 and I wanted to include him, so he will become sort of an adviser of sorts to her. It would be Margaery and Olenna ruling but to be honest even though Renly is a good guy. I love Olenna and I wouldn't really care if she was ruling Westeros, she would do a far better job than most of them. The Iron Islands and Theon won't really be mentioned very much in this story but there could be a chance in way further chapters that they will become an enemy for her.

Guest 1: Thank you, I'm glad you so think so!

Guest 2: Thanks! I hope this chapter doesn't disappoint.

ZabuzasGirl: Thank you! It was a good scene to write between Boudicca and Renly and I hope you enjoyed chapter eight and the fight between them!

Weltenfresser: You never know what could happen in the future with her but she will suffer a lot in the next few chapters to come.


	20. Chapter Nineteen

_Stormlands_

Boudicca Baratheon

" _Kinslayer!"_

Boudicca's was roused from her sleep that was plagued with never ending darkness and night terrors that made little sense to her, she dreamt of sharp blades that glinted dangerously under candle light as they flayed a wolf of its pelt. Boudicca also dreamt of a burning sword and a boat sailing across a stormy sea. It made little sense to her and she wondered as she blearily opened her eyes, if it was guilt consuming her. The memory of what happened to her uncle remained vividly in her mind. A cool cloth met her feverish face and she leant closer to its cold touch.

Boudicca groaned, clenching her eyes shut from the pain as she slowly propped herself up on her elbows before taking in her surroundings. The healer was tending to her but she also took note that Robb had been in her tent at some point as she saw his fur cloak draped over a wooden chair by her bedside. She craned her neck in search of him but found herself alone with the healer, her green eyes met the grey of the healer's and she gave her a small smile, taking the cloth away from her face. The dull light of day seeped into the gloomy tent and her eyes landed on Ser Davos.

"My Princess," Ser Davos said gruffly as he approached her bedside, she nodded for the healer to leave.

"Ser Davos," Boudicca murmured, she winced at the hoarseness of her voice. Her eyes widened when she saw the cut on his cheek and she reached up, caressing the scruff of his cheek. At times, she forgets that she has only known Ser Davos for a few moon's worth yet they have been through nearly everything together. He was her companion, her adviser and her dearest friend. "You're hurt."

"As are you. I have suffered far worse in the past, my Princess. I apologise for what you may have seen on the battlefield, I have never been much of fighter as I have a sailor," He answered, his voice softened slightly but his brows remained furrowed and he took her hand in his own as he stared intensely down at her, his eyes filled with concern and a fondness that reminded her of her father. In a way, the man who has remained at her side since the beginning gives her a comfort that she welcomes. "Are you alright?"

"No," She said honestly, her voice wavering. "I'm not...I killed a _King._ I killed my uncle. I am a traitor to my own blood...I couldn't even think...I was afraid...I was afraid for _them_."

"You had every right to," Ser Davos told her firmly. "I do not want you to forget that he made an attempt on your life, he threatened the lives of your siblings and your mother."

"I am worse than my uncle Jaime," Boudicca retorts. "I am an abomination. They will look at me and think _Kinslayer._ "

"He wronged you," He told her. "He was going to kill you."

"How can I rule the Seven Kingdoms? How can I have the gall to call myself a ruler when I cannot even make peace with my own blood?" Boudicca spits, closing her eyes before the tears fall from her eyes. "I am a _Kinslayer._ Why should anyone _trust_ me? Why should anyone follow me? I killed my uncle in cold blood...and you know the worst part, I wasn't even sorry that I did it. I love my siblings...if something were to happen to them...the entire world would see blood. All I could think of was my uncle driving his sword into their bellies and watching as their innocent, fearful eyes lost their light. The moment I held them in my arms after their birth, I fell in love with them. I will burn the world if that is what it takes to protect them."

"I believe in many things and I believe in you, Boudicca Baratheon," He stated causing her to look up at him softly. "I may not know much but I know you and I know that you have gained a respect of sorts from the small folk. I have heard them cry your name into the night, the night after the battle...I heard them. The Bringer of Storms, some had cried while others hailed you, the Warrior or the Storm Queen. They sing for _you_. I hope you will fight for them as they fight for you, my Princess."

"I will fight for them," Boudicca responded. "It is not fair. Why should they be caught in our war? They do not want someone to fight for them. They want someone to fight with them. And I intend to do so." She stilled, a heavy thought praying on her mind before she mustered up what little courage she had left and voiced her thoughts. "How many of our men did we lose? How many loses?"

"The last I heard we lost over twelve thousand men," The Onion Knight confirmed, taking a deep breath. "I reckon Renly's losses were three times that."

"Thank you" Boudicca muttered, reaching over and placed her hand on his shoulder causing him to look down at her in surprise.

"For what?" Ser Davos asked, confusion evident in his voice.

" _Everything,_ " She replied immediately. "You have saved my life. You have saved my siblings lives. You have looked after us. I thank you."

At her request, Ser Davos helped her stand, the thin furs slipping from her body. He kept his eyes firmly trained on the ground as her upper half was naked. Boudicca let out heavy groans as her entire body ached, though she would not dare voice her complaints. _At least I live,_ she thought solemnly. To complain after all those men died for her would leave a bitter taste in her mouth if she dared spew how she felt sore. Ser Davos averted his eyes before unclasping his cloak and threw it around her shoulders, she thanked him before searching the tent for her tunic and boots. It took her a long time to dress as her entire body was stiff and she was unable to move her right wrist properly without it pulsing in pain. After she had dressed, she was about to give it back to Ser Davos, he held his hand out and shook his head.

"No," He tells her. "You need the cloak more than I do. I can easily gain a new one."

The guilt overwhelmed her again as she gave him a grateful smile and kept the cloak close to her, covering her body from the harsh winds and cold air. Both she and her Onion Knight began walking throughout the camp, weaving their way around many tents and people as the camp was bustling with activity. Boudicca's brows furrowed as many soldiers that passed them bowed and hailed her as _Queen._ By the look on Ser Davos' face, he knew something that she did not.

"How long was I asleep for?" Boudicca asked.

"You have slept for three days," The Onion Knight informed her. "The days have been uneventful but the village leaders of the small folk have become rather restless as of late, they wish to have an audience with you."

"I will give them one..." She trailed off before turning to face him curiously. "I wish to see them today."

"They will need to form a gathering," He replied. "I am sure you will have a better insight to the war you will face once you have spoken to them."

"I will," Boudicca said, pausing for a moment before she stilled, swallowing the lump that had steadily formed in her drying throat. "I also wish to see my uncle. W-Where is his body?"

"Your uncle is in a tent nearing the end of camp," Ser Davos said grimly. "I heard that Ser Loras Tyrell is with his body."

"Ser Loras?" Boudicca questioned, tilting her head in confusion. _How? Was he not at Storm's End?_ "How did we obtain the Knight of Flowers? I thought he was at Storm's End."

"It appears you were misinformed," Ser Davos answered simply. "We all were."

Ser Davos led her towards the tent that held her uncle and she couldn't bear it as they both grew closer to the pale brown tent. As they neared the tent, she turned to face the Onion Knight and nodded for him to stay outside the tent. Boudicca pulled back the heavy fur that acted as a door and both slowly and hesitantly entered the dark tent. In the middle of the tent, amongst many burning candles lay the body of her uncle, Renly Baratheon. It looked as if he was sleeping in a way, his eyes were gently closed and the wound was cleaned and covered by his dark green cloak.

Boudicca's brows furrowed, she had never seen him so pale and sickly looking. The man that once was filled so full of life, was now lifeless. Her eyes averted towards Ser Loras Tyrell, who was kneeling beside her uncle's body. The blond haired man's flowing locks covered part of his face, he remained silent as did she and the only sound she heard was his laboured breathing and her own. Boudicca could see tears falling down his face and onto the hand of Renly that he was clutching, pressing a soft kiss to it.

"I did not want it to end this way," Boudicca began solemnly. "I loved my uncle, truly I did, he was blood of my blood."

"Renly would have been a good King," The Knight of Flowers hissed, his breath hitching as he held Renly's hand tighter. "A _good_ King. A just King. You have now doomed the realm. You have now doomed your family. You have doomed your people and you have also doomed yourself, you idiotic girl. You and I both know that women are not born to rule. You are not fit to rule the Seven Kingdoms nor would you be suited for the Iron Throne. You are not fit to lead. You will be seen as a monster. No god will ever except you after what you have done. You are alone, Boudicca of the Storm. You will die alone."

"I do not do this for any God. How just are the Gods we worship? The Drowned One wants to drown both his worshippers and enemies alike. The Red One wants to burn their enemies and what of our Gods, how good are they? The Seven detest the both of us. They detest me for saving my own skin and defending my siblings and they detest you...merely for falling in love. Why should I hold respect for them? Where were my Gods when Joffrey had me brought to the steps of Baelor and _flogged._ Where were our Gods? If they cared for us so much, why have they not stopped this sooner?" Boudicca asked him. "My uncle and I may have come to blows but I am not entirely at fault for this. We all have a part to play in this. The blood is on both our hands and on my uncle's."

"You...you _dare_ blame me! _Me..._ for his death!" Ser Loras seethed, his voice rising. "I loved him! I would have done anything for him."

"As did I, I loved him too. He was among the first to ever show me kindness in my youth. He once offered me protection against my brother, Joffrey's cruel antics," Boudicca said calmly, though her voice tended to waver every time she looked across at Renly's face. "His mind was poisoned with the whisperings of power. You and Lady Margaery did that. My uncle may have been a kind man but he was also an ambitious one and you both played upon that. In truth, your house is no better than House Lannister. I don't care much for beautiful things...because when you pick away at them, they tend to reveal themselves to be quite ugly and deceitful."

The Knight of Flower's bottom lip trembled and with that, his wrathful demeanour broke and he unclenched his fists, collapsing against Renly's bedside and threw himself across Renly's body. Her own stiff demeanour faded as well and tears fell from her eyes but her tears did not fall for long as she made her way over to her uncle. Boudicca stared down at her uncle Renly and placed a shaking gloved hand atop of her uncle's forehead before she grazed his cheek with her thumb. _I am sorry,_ Boudicca thought. _You left me no choice._

"I once had a full bloodied brother. A younger one," Boudicca murmured bitterly, her breath hitching slightly. "He was born a year just after I was. He died shortly after his birth due to fever...he was just a babe. They were to name him Steffon, after my grandfather. I sometimes lie back in my bed and wish, had he lived...things would have been very different. The world would be a different place. My uncle would still be alive. I would not have to live with his ghost nor would you."

"What will become of Renly?" Loras asked quietly. "Please, I wish to know."

"He is a true Baratheon, therefore, he will have a true Baratheon funeral rite. I would _never_ deny my uncle of that. I will be sending his body to Storm's End and he will be buried in the crypts of Storm's End with the rest of our kin," Boudicca answered fiercely. "You may accompany the convoy if you so wish it."

"Why are you allowing this? I am a prisoner of war," The Knight of Flowers retorted, his eyes narrowing as he looked at her warily. "You do not release prisoners of war. It is known."

"You can escape," Boudicca muttered. "It will do more bad than good if I keep you as a prisoner of war. It was your sister that was manipulating him. It was her who wanted to be Queen. You truly loved my uncle, I can see it in your eyes and you also made him happy. I will not dishonour him any further by having you remaining a prisoner or tried for treason. I would like to think his last thought would be for your safety. I have witnessed and caused enough bloodshed. Your name will not be added to that list... _for now_ but know this, Ser Loras of House Tyrell...if you _dare_ cross paths with me again, I will not hesitate to end your life. I pray that I do not cross paths with you again...if I do, it will not end well for either of us."

"It begins then," Ser Loras starts, his voice soft and barely above a whisper. "The war has finally begun."

"No," She denies. "Now it ends."

Boudicca seen Ser Loras stiffen before he looked up at her with wide eyes, he bowed his head in compliance and defeat. Her eyes lingered on Renly's face for the last time and with that, she hastily left the tent. Boudicca expected to come face to face with Ser Davos but instead she was met with Robb but before she could say anything to him, he cupped her face in his hands firmly and brought her lips to his own in a passionate kiss, causing her eyes to steadily close at the sudden and surprising move he made.

* * *

Robb led her towards a large campfire and the sound of merry music filled her ears along with laughter from the rowdy people that drank or danced around her. The song that was being played by the bards in honour of the Young Wolf ended and soon enough as they both approached the Bear and the Maiden Fair picked up, causing the drunken stupor to grow louder. Her eyes lit up when she landed on her brother who was shyly dancing with Beth Cassel and she watched as Myrcella, Sansa and Jeyne danced in a circle.

Lady Catelyn was sat on a wooden seat and looked on with a fondness in her eyes. Ser Davos was stood next to the auburn haired woman, drinking from his cup and tended to shift uncomfortably but nevertheless, he looked on at everything with kind eyes. His eyes landed on her and he raised his cup to her before taking a sip as Robb led her further towards the dancing couples. It seemed they were celebrating their victory, Ser Davos had informed her earlier that they had been celebrating since the battle and now they had more of reason to celebrate as Robb had announced the betrothal between them. Ser Davos had also informed her that it was Robb who had carried her from the battlefield and he had stayed by her side ever since aside from going to meetings. It was also surprising to hear that Lady Sansa and Lady Catelyn had taken to sit with her too.

"I can't dance," Boudicca told him. "If you spun me, I'd fall flat on my arse."

"I've got you," Robb murmured in her ear, placing a kiss on it as he wrapped his arms around her waist and began to sway her slightly, his chest meeting her back. "I won't let you fall. I promise."

"I do not want to celebrate the victory..." She trailed off, eyeing the fire that danced wildly with the people.

"We aren't celebrating a victory," He responds, leading her closer to the fire. "We are celebrating our betrothal. You did accept my proposal after all. We are to be married soon."

"Yes, that I know. Are you going to teach me how to dance like a Northerner, my King?" Boudicca muses, raising a brow.

"Of course," Robb retorts. "Or would you prefer to dance with swords? I know you are rather fond of that."

The people around them began hollering in time to the beat of the music and she finds her slipping into doing the same as Robb holds her, letting his hands rest on her waist. The song became faster and she soon found herself becoming lost in both the music and in Robb. Robb seemed to forget she had little idea of how to dance properly as he spun her around, somehow managing to lift her high in time to the music while he spins her. Her feet land back on the ground and she lost her balance momentarily but his hold tightens.

"I won't drop you," He jests, laughing loudly as he spins with her.

"You better not," Boudicca swears but her smile is teasing.

All she hears is laughter and music as he spins her, the fire becoming a blur of red and gold, the people soon became like that too as they spin faster and faster around the fire. Her grip on Robb tightens as he hoists her high in the air before she lands back down on the ground, letting out a loud laugh as her feet touch the ground. Her hair is in a disarray, flying in all directions as she throws her head back and continues to laugh, finding herself unable to stop as he spins her. The music comes to an abrupt stop and when the song, he dips her low to the ground.

Her green eyes met his and notices that she has never seen his blue eyes this bright before. His eyes were filled with so much happiness but behind that lingered an emotion she was all too familiar with. _Sadness._ Although she would not dare mention it to him. Robb may try to cover it up and deny it but he had sad eyes. His eyes did not scream pain, they whispered it instead. Her smile faded and all laughter left her face, she tilted her head curiously as he brought her back to a standing position, holding her steady. He frowns, his face puzzles as she stares at him. Her hand lets go of his shoulder and she reaches up, her hand cupped his face and she stroked her thumb across his beard.

"You have such pretty eyes Stark," Boudicca informs him. _Yet they are so sad._

"Your eyes are _far_ more beautiful," Robb tells her, reaching up and grasped her wrist and took her hand, pressing her fingers to his lips. "You have a strong heart."

After that, the camp died down as the night continued. They continued to sway by the dying fire in silence, the only sound was the gentle music that had lulled many drunken people to sleep before they could make it back to their tent. All she could do was stare and dance with Robb in silence, her mind lingering on his words. As a Princess, it was her duty to strengthen ties between houses and strike alliances at her father and mother's will but she always managed to scare a potential suitor off one way or another. All of her suitors paid her exaggerated compliments that she knew were falsified and untrue, yet the kind words that leave Robb Stark's lips are _true_ and for a mere moment, she feels her heart clench painfully.

They finished their final dance and she noticed that her siblings had retired along with the Ladies and Ser Davos. Her eyes landed on Grey Wind, she watched as the large direwolf that reached her waist stalked over to them and began to circle them. The direwolf's eyes held no malice and his tongue was hanging from his mouth as he circled them, drawing them closer together until he sat beside them, peering up at them curiously causing her to laugh slightly.

"I think we should retire for the night," He murmured.

"I will bid my siblings good night first," Boudicca said, mischief dancing in her eyes. "Then I am all yours."

"As I am yours," Robb said softly, letting go of her and began to walk away. "Come, Grey Wind."

Boudicca lifted a brow as she watched Robb walk away but the grey direwolf remains at her side, his curious yellow eyes staring at her carefully. The direwolf huffs out a breath and nudges against her leg, her brows furrow in confusion and in turn Robb stills, turning to face them and notices that the direwolf he has bonded with has not moved. Grey Wind's eyes flicker momentarily to Robb's and she watches as he nods to the direwolf but the wolf merely lets out a low howl.

"Here, Grey Wind," Robb commands, his voice firmer than it was but the direwolf stays at her feet.

"It appears the King cannot command his direwolf," Boudicca quips, chuckling in amusement.

"You have entranced him," He tells her but she laughs at him. "I cannot say I fault him for that."

"Go on, Grey Wind," Boudicca encourages with a smile, giving the wolf a slight and soft nudge with her right knee. The yellow eyes of Grey Wind meet her own and his eyes rest on her face. "You will hurt his feelings."

"Come on," Robb said as Grey Wind lifts his head as she strokes his fur.

Boudicca kneels beside Grey Wind then and strokes his neck as Robb calls for him, the direwolf shifts and jumps at her. At first, she thinks that his intention was to attack her but instead the wolf pants loudly and rests his paw on her knee, his tail batting back and forth quickly as he reaches up and licks her fast. He rubs his muzzle against her and she chuckles, continuing to stroke his smoke grey pelt as he plants licks to her face and neck while contently huffing. A slanted smile appears on her face as Robb stares at them with a frown.

"Off you go," Boudicca tells Grey Wind as she takes to standing once more. She turns and heads in the direction of her sibling's tent but Grey Wind follows at her heels, pawing at her cloak as she walks away from Robb. Boudicca turns back to face both Grey Wind and Robb. "I have to bid goodnight to my siblings. I will be with both of you in a moment. You won't miss me much."

"Are you forgetting that I am the one who feeds you?" Robb mused to Grey Wind before he chuckled. "You traitor."

"Is that jealous I hear from the Young Wolf?" She inquires, a smirk appearing on her face.

"Of him, aye," He retorts, causing her to chuckle.

"Is Grey Wind favouring your wife to be, Robb?" Blackfish asked mockingly, passing them by on the way to his tent.

"Grey Wind is mine," Robb said, looking at her with a fierceness. "As are you. You are both mine."

"The feeling is mutual," She retorts.

"Protect her," He ordered firmly.

Grey Wind turned to look at Robb and to her surprise, the direwolf gave a small nod of its head and turned to trot after, trailing by her side and she took in the full size of the direwolf then. The direwolf was large, larger than her lion and she reckoned that in a few more years he would be larger than any horse she has ridden, perhaps larger than Robb himself. The wolf nudged her every so often as they parted ways with Robb, a smile remaining on her face as she made her way to her sibling's tent with the direwolf close by.

* * *

Author's Note: Hey, I hope you like this double update! I would like to thank all of you for reading this story, I put this in every author's note but I really do appreciate it along with the reviews that are left, so I would like to give a massive thank you to everyone who has and I would like to also thank those of you who have made this one of your favourites and have followed this story. If you have any questions regarding Boudicca or a chapter, feel free to ask and the next update should be up soon.

Reviews-

day2467: Hi! Yep, you assumed right it was him who carried her away and I'm glad you liked it. I wanted to write about a relationship where one doesn't dominate over the other, I wanted it to be an equal one where they both lean on each other. I'm glad you are a fan of it. Boudicca will start to change over time, her ending Renly's life was definitely a major turning point for her and she will develop even further as a character. Daenerys will be involved in the future and Boudicca will become Queen of the North and Stormlands. Thank you for reviewing!

ZabuzasGirl: Thank you,I hope you like chapters nineteen and twenty!

Revan: Thank you! The reason Brienne shouted 'Kingslayer' was because, in her eyes, he was a King and to some, he was seen as a King although he was just trying to usurp the throne. Boudicca still considers herself a Kinslayer and she will carry that title and the guilt for a long time.

RHatch89: Thank you!

12D3 Gorillaz: Yep, Boudicca and Robb will eventually have a child together. There will be a lot of deaths but no surprise survivals I'm afraid, those that canonically died at the Red Wedding will die along with a few others. And from that event, there will be a lot more deaths.

celticank: Thank you, I'm glad you liked the battle! I hope you like these chapters!

livvy416: Thank you, hopefully, you like chapter nineteen and twenty! There will be a whole lot of parallels between the historical Warrior Queen and the Warrior Queen I've written about. I always liked learning about Boudica and I love both history and Game of Thrones, so I thought I would combine it both in a way.

: Thank you, I hope you like this double update!

sassygirl9811: I'm glad you did, I hope you like chapters nineteen and twenty!

Saint River: In Brienne's eyes (along with Loras and many others) Renly was their King and in Brienne's eyes, she shouted the first thing she could think of which was both Kingslayer and Kinslayer. Boudicca considers herself a Kinslayer after waking up and that title and guilt will be with her for quite a while, though killing Renly was also another turning point for her as well and there will be a few changes here and there to her. Her humanity will be a source of conflict for her throughout the story especially for what she will have to face in further chapters. In a sense, her siblings and Robb are her humanity, they still make her feel in a way. Boudicca will go full Rains of Castamere _very_ soon on a lot of people. I haven't seen Barbarians Rising yet but I will definitely check it out.

Mim: Boudicca firmly believes she is the rightful heir but that passion she has for claiming her throne will slowly dwindle but she definitely wouldn't give Robb the throne, like she wouldn't give Renly the throne. Brienne will make an appearance in the future but although they will not be the closest of friends, they will have a common enemy in the future that they will have to deal with together.

Devilboy101: The chapters are getting lighter again but there will be a lot more bloodier and sadder chapters to come.

Guest: There will be a lot of romantic scenes between her and Robb to come.

IceFlower: It will be a tragic romance between her and Robb, their relationship will be short, passionate and she will come to love him (she already cares for him greatly) but their relationship will come to a horrific end.


	21. Chapter Twenty

_Riverrun_

Boudicca Baratheon

Boudicca let out a small, shaky breath as she readied herself. She watched as many women were scurrying around her, some coming to add or take away something or other from her hair or her dress that looked right or wrong to them. Although it was Lady Catelyn and herself who had the final say as to what was added or taken away to the dress and her hair that they had somehow managed to tame but even at best, a strand or two fell across her face. They have been making preparations for the wedding ever since the battle and two weeks later, it was time and she felt overwhelming and mixed emotions.

They had travelled back to Riverrun for the ceremony on the request of Lady Catelyn and the fact that Robb had wanted them to marry in a God's Wood, the Old Gods were not worshipped as much as they were in the North and to come across a God's Wood was a rarity. A harp was playing gently in the background but it did nothing to ease her. She shook her head, letting out a breathless laugh as they tightened her corset. Any tighter and she could swear by the Gods that they would break her ribs. Boudicca took a seat on a stool nearby a long mirror and gestured to Myrcella, who quickly made her way over and sat gracefully down on the floor next to her.

"You look beautiful," Myrcella commented shyly, causing Boudicca to give her a small smirk. She looked to her sister in the mirror before turning to a basket filled with small white flowers and plucked a handful from the basket and began to weave them into Myrcella's braided blonde ringlets, that shined golden crown atop of her head as the light from window shined in. Her sister smiled at her from in the mirror causing her own smile to widen. "I cannot wait to get married. I wonder who I will be married to? A gallant knight?"

"As do you," Boudicca replied, binding the stem of a flower to a lock of her sister's hair and eyed her in the mirror with a slight smile. "You are very beautiful. Your husband will be the luckiest man in Westeros and if he thinks otherwise...well I will have to ram a spear up his arse."

" _Boudicca!_ " Her sister gasped, scolding her softly while she covered her mouth as giggles erupted from her pale pink lips.

"It is true," She responded simply. "If he is not willing to gift you the world, I will crush him into the very ground."

Boudicca had to give the women surrounding her credit, especially the Lady Catelyn and Sansa. _The gown is beautiful,_ she thinks to herself. _I look like winter itself._ The dress had draping silken sleeves and long, heavy layers of grey silk and ivory with silver embroidery, that reflected beautifully in the light. The dress reminded her of a swan gliding across the water in the pond of the gardens in her home. Boudicca had watched the swans as a child and marvelled at how their feathers glinted under the sun and against the water. _Like steel,_ she thought. Boudicca was accessorised with a silver circlet that held a small diamond in the middle and the same necklace Robb had given her was resting on her breasts. If she looked down at it, the direwolf appeared to smile at her and snarl to those who stared at her.

 _Like,_ _Robb._ Boudicca cannot exactly remember the moment when she felt something or what possessed her to feel something for the wolf. After years of betrothals that were fated to fail, she had hardened her heart and covered herself in layers of brawn, confidence and steel so that she could never be hurt again but somehow, someway the moment he smiled at her that day after they had sparred and after the mocking kiss they shared in the woods, all the ice she had held around her own heart melted.

Her favourite part was not the dress but rather the circlet, cloak and her boots as she took a glance or two at herself in the mirror; the circlet gave tribute to her house as it had small antlers which curled inwards, it reminded her of a ram rather than a stag but it held meaning nonetheless. Her cloak also paid tribute to her house and the tradition of the wedding, her cloak was black as her hair and had a silhouette of a silver stag embroidered into the cloak, around her neck held a fur that was grey with streaks of black and white through it. Her boots were knee high and were a white leather with silver antler buttons.

"You are nervous?" Lady Catelyn asked. "You are handling it far better than Robb is."

"Am I?" Boudicca asked, trying to hold in a smug grin. "I thought he would braver than I."

"You are no Lady," The auburn haired woman informed her fiercely though her eyes were soft as she spoke to her. "That is for certain. I know you can protect my son and any children you may give him, you have protected your siblings and _my daughter_. You brought my daughter back to me and away from that _monster_ , I owe you. My father always told me it is a good thing to have a Baratheon as an ally and it seems his words echo true. I have seen you with him, you make him happy, happier than he has felt in a long time. Thank you."

"And I thank you," She responded. "You have taken care of my siblings when I could not ever since our arrival. I will keep your family safe, Lady Catelyn. I promise. I will do what I could not in King's Landing. We will find Arya. We will avenge Bran, Rickon and Eddard. I will gift you the heads of our enemies, that I vow by the Old Gods and the New. I will not fail you."

Her eyes flickered up to Lady Catelyn, who gifted her a soft but stern smile which she returned. Boudicca's eyes averted back down to her sister and continued to weave various wildflowers into her sister's hair. Her eyes landed on Sansa, Jeyne and Beth and she watched them as they giggled in delight while they did each other's hair and gushed about their dresses. The women that helped prepare her were concerned about her overall well being, to the point where it was overwhelming until suddenly it dawned on her.

 _I am to marry Robb Stark, the King of the North and the Young Wolf. I am to be his wife and he is to be my husband._

"It almost feels to me as if no time has passed, my friends," Boudicca said hoarsely as soft laughter echoed in her ears as they took in her heaving chest and paling face as she held on to the realisation. "It really does not feel as if a year has long since passed us. It is rather strange...but considering the circumstances, a good strange I think."

 _I am to be a married woman_ , Boudicca thought as she rose to her feet and helped her sister to stand and inspecting her work with pride. She adjusted her ceremonial cloak and her pendant. Boudicca looked like a bride of winter, dressed in black, grey, white and silver. Her legs felt stiff, almost like a sword and her mouth was dry as she left her chambers and made her way down the halls. Sansa, Jeyne and Beth were walking in front of her while Myrcella walked at her left side and Lady Catelyn looped her left arm through her right and led her outside and towards the Gods Wood. Her nerves lessened slightly as she took in the bleeding trees and a smile appeared on her face when she reached Blackfish, who waited at the outskirts.

"I offered," Blackfish told her. "As your father has long since passed, I vouched to."

"It's an honour," Boudicca replied sincerely.

Lady Catelyn let her go and gave her an encouraging nod. His firm hand was placed over her own and despite what was happening, his face never lost its familiar stern and gruff expression, she could compare both Lady Catelyn and Lord Brynden then to the sternness in their faces. Just as they entered the God's Wood, many eyes landing on her, she could have sworn that he winked at her before turning to face forward like she slowly did.

The God's Wood was quiet and she found herself liking the serenity it gifted her as she walked through the woods with the white trees. Although there were many people of importance present, she knew that most people would be gathered in the great hall of Riverrun to celebrate their union. Nevertheless, she was consumed by a sea of faces, some she did recognise and others she did not as she was led down towards Robb.

As Boudicca approached, her eyes landed on him and she gave him a hint of a smile. His eyes flickered to her own before she watched as his eyes trailed down her body and she witnessed his eyes widen slightly and his face softened into one of awe as he looked back up to her face, his eyes meeting her own as she grew closer to him. The smile on his face slowly widened. Finally, Boudicca stopped in front of him and he took her hand away from Lord Brynden's and gave a light kiss to her knuckles.

"I take it you like what you see?" Boudicca teased. "I know I do."

"I do," He replied, letting out a quiet chuckle. "I really do."

"Good. I'm glad we are on the same page," She murmured.

He took her hands in his own and they turned to face the Septon, ready to take her vows. Boudicca's eyes flickered to her siblings briefly, seeing the soft, innocent smiles on their faces as they stared at both her and Robb. She winked at them before turning to face Robb once more and smiled at him as he held her hands tighter in his hold.

 _I am his and he is mine. He will be blood of my blood and bone of my bone, and that is what I will now._

* * *

Robb Stark

His heart thundered in his chest as he stared at the ever wild woman beside him, at first he thought it was a dream that would be cruelly taken away from him but the reassuring squeeze of his hands made him think otherwise. His eyes briefly looked down to their hands and saw that their fingers were entwined together and he wondered if he would ever let go, now that he had her. His eyes flickered back up to her face and his eyes locked with her own and she gave him an encouraging smile. Often he heard people compare her eyes to wildfire but he did not think that he did not think that at all when he stared into them. Her eyes were bright and green and _entrancing._ They may hold green but he saw a shimmer of blue within them.

 _She is nervous,_ he thinks to himself. Robb was nervous too, more so than he ever has been but he was also happier than he ever has been in his life. He has never been more content than he has at this very moment. They were both stood in the God's Wood at Riverrun, underneath a weirwood tree. At Boudicca's request, they had a Septon oversee their marriage and the ageing man was stood at the side of them but he found himself paying the Septon little to no mind, his attention focused solely on his wife to be.

The night was beautiful and cold, the sun had long since set and the only light they had was the hundreds of torches that were lit throughout the God's Wood and the moon that was high in the night's sky, casting an eerie white light on them. The fire surrounding them crackled softly as they turned to face the tree with its many faces. Robb expected Boudicca to shift uncomfortably upon staring at their bleeding faces but she did not and instead, raised her chin higher and stood straighter than she ever has as they took in the tree that was white as snow and the leaves redder than blood.

Robb had never seen Boudicca more beautiful than she was at that very moment. The long gown was no doubt a tribute to his house as she wore his colours of grey and white, with the exception of the Baratheon stag cloak she proudly wore around her shoulders. At first, he thought she would be wearing both a stag and a lion but she did not. Boudicca was always one to dress simply wearing neutral and dark colours but he had never seen her dressed so elegantly or beautifully.

Robb had to contain a laugh when he saw her hair held in a Northern style but even then curls of hair managed to escape and fall across her face. _After all this time?_ Robb thought, staring at the necklace he had gifted her shortly after they first met and he noticed she seemed to wear that proudly above everything else she was wearing.

A smirk appeared on her face when she stared at him from the corner of her eye, catching him staring at her and he wondered what she must have thought. Robb smiled at her and wanted to savour each passing moment. He has awaited this moment since her arrival at Winterfell since his father pulled him aside and told them of their betrothal. He could solely trust and put his faith in Boudicca Baratheon like she could do so with him. The Septon spoke up then, causing him to look towards the Septon with wide eyes.

"You may now cloak the bride and bring her under your protections," The Septon announced.

His heart thundered in his chest and he looked on warily, especially when Boudicca raised a brow towards him. Robb reached over and unclasped the silver brooch that held the black cloak around her shoulders and let it fall gently to the floor before he did the same to his own cloak and slid it from his shoulders before wrapping his warm cloak around her shoulders, causing her to smile at him. The Septon remained silent for a few moments which made him tense. _Have I done something wrong?_ Robb thought with furrowed brows. The Septon took their hands in his fragile ones and shakily bound a tie of leather to their hands, binding her hand in his own which made his chest swell.

"In the sight of the Seven, I hereby seal these two souls, binding them as one for eternity. You may look upon one another and say the words," The Septon proclaimed.

"Father. Smith. Warrior. Mother. Maiden. Crone. Stranger. I am hers and she is mine, from this day until the end of my days," Robb recited with Boudicca as she said the same vows as he did.

After they had finished their vows, he saw her smile widen further than it ever has as their eyes remained focused solely on each other. He found himself unable to look away or speak as the Septon unbound their hands and with that he leant in, pressing a kiss to her lips. _My wife,_ he thought to himself. They had shared many kisses some were mocking, some were desperate and others were passionate but he has never shared a more loving kiss with her than he has this night.

In that very moment, he forgot everything but her lips. He forgot about the damned war. Robb forgot about everything but his wife. In his mind, they were the only ones that mattered. Boudicca pulled away from the kiss to take a breath and after a few moments, he leant in and kissed her once more. Robb wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer until their chests were touching as she deepened their kiss, he felt her heart race against his own pounding chest and wondered if she could feel his. She pulled away and stared at him with a burning intensity but her eyes still remained soft and shocked.

"If you promise me forever," Boudicca told him. "I will promise you always."

" _Forever_ ," Robb murmured a scared vow only they could hear as he pressed a light kiss to her lips. "I will love you until the end of time."

Robb took Boudicca's hand in his causing her to smile at him, this woman in front of him was his wife and he knew she would also be the mother of whatever children they may have. He started to imagine what their children would look like and what they would name them. _Will they have her dark hair with my eyes?_ Robb thought to himself and at this point, he could compare himself to dreaming like Sansa but he cared little for it as he imagined their life together.

 _Or will they have my hair with her eyes? Will I have a girl that is boisterous as Arya? Or will I have a boy that is loyal like my father once was?_ He did not know what the future may hold but whatever future they had, they would live it out together until the end of their days. Until both he and his wife would grow old and grey. Until they drew their last breath together. He looked briefly to his mother and saw tears in her eyes causing him to smile to her before turning back to Boudicca.

"No one can part me from you," Boudicca swore fiercely, cupping his face with her hands and pressed another kiss to his lips. " _I promise_."

* * *

Boudicca Baratheon

"Those Stormlords are a rowdy bunch, aren't they?" Robb murmured, chuckling at her while they ate together.

The hall was lively filled with music, laughter, drunken conversation and dancing. Both she and Robb watched over their people while they ate and laughed, talking in hushed whispers to one another. The songs of both their houses were played along with many other ballads, some more wild than the other and that is when on her signal, she had Ser Davos escort both her siblings to bed as she knew what was drawing near. Boudicca had to give it to Lady Catelyn, the woman was a determined one and even more fierce as she somehow managed to make preparations for the wedding, despite them being in the midst of war.

"They are aren't they. I suppose it is to do with our blood," Boudicca said dismissively, biting into a piece of roast. "The same could be said for you Northerners."

It should feel like a joyous occasion, she was _married_ yet she still felt a bitterness. It saddened her slightly that her father nor mother could be here to witness her marry. While she was celebrating, she was also riddled with guilt when it came to her uncle. Ever since his death, she has dreamt each night about him. At times she dreamt of him crawling out of a stormy sea towards her and other times she dreamt simply of his death, she has dreamt of his death a thousand times over and wonders if she will continue to do so.

It was always her father's wish to be joined to House Stark, to Ned and she wondered if he was somehow witnessing this night along with her ancestors. Though when it came to her mother, things grew even more complicated than they were. Her mother had Joffrey placed upon the throne despite knowing that it was her birthright and her mother had also betrayed her father. Her father was still at fault as he had betrayed her as well. _The betrayed each other._

Boudicca shook her head slightly, raising her wine goblet to her lips and down the cool liquid. She had to focus on the now, not the then. If she continued to look back, she would be lost. Boudicca had her younger siblings, she now had her husband and had a family now in the Stark's. She could not afford to think of her own and her family's sins. _How many ghosts and sins do I have?_ Boudicca thinks to herself. The only reason the Septon had married both her and Robb was that he considered her kinslaying sin of an uncle lesser than that of killing a sibling.

 _How many more trials will the Gods put me through? How many more people will have to die in my name? In the name of this war?_

"I think it is time," Robb said tenderly, taking her hand in his own causing her to still.

It was a new experience for her, she had never been bedded nor had made love to another, neither had he. Her mother always told her the first time would be horrible and she would be in excruciating pain. _The best weapon is, of course, the one between your legs,_ her mother had told her. Her mother told her many things about becoming a woman and none were pleasant. Her mother told her about when she would first bleed, about the pain and blood when she would lose her maidenhead and of course about birthing her first child, which made her too reluctant to ask another woman's opinion but she found herself looking at womanhood in a kinder light, thanks to Lady Stark. The opinions of Lady Catelyn showed her a less scornful and bitter side to becoming a woman. The night before she was wed to Robb, Lady Catelyn took her aside and told her about many things. _It is something you must discover for yourself,_ Lady Catelyn informed her. _Only then will you have a true opinion of the trials of womanhood._

This night was more nerve wracking than when she was fleeing King's Landing or charging towards thousands of horses and into battle. The last upbeat song came to an abrupt end and another loud, lively song picked up, echoing throughout the halls. Boudicca's hand clenched around Robb's and nodded, licking her red stained lips and rose ungracefully from her chair to her feet. Immediately, men and women were gathering near them, excitement buzzing throughout the hall as they began to sing a song about a she-wolf bedding a young wolf.

Lady Catelyn looked on with a raised brow but Robb murmured something to her, causing a fondness to appear in the woman's eyes as the men swept Boudicca from the hall. Her eyes landed on Robb who was whisked away by giggling women. Boudicca found herself laughing as they threw her high up in the air before catching her before she hit the ground, they did this as they carried her down every hall. She was partly confused when they did not take her clothes off, as it was tradition, her mother had always graphically told her what happens to women during the bedding ceremony but instead, the men merely sang merry songs, throwing her every so often in the air as they carried her towards a dimly lit chamber.

They lowered her to the ground and into the chambers as she turned to face them, the door closed firmly behind her. All she heard was loud laughter from the other side of the door. Boudicca looked around the chambers and noted that there were only a few candles lit, the rest of the chambers were lit up by the light of the moon and the stars that danced in the sky along with the dim pit of fire by many furs. Her eyes landed on Robb and they were met with a silence. She recovered quickly from what had happened and did the only thing she could do in that moment, she laughed.

"Are you nervous?" Robb asked softly, moving towards her. Boudicca averted her eyes down, the women certainly did not take their time in removing his clothes. Her eyes flickered back up to him with a raised brow, her face puzzled as she turned around slowly at his request. Her breath relaxed as he began to unlace her dress, his hands trailing down her curves while he did so. Robb let his chin rest on her shoulder and held her gently in his hold. "I requested them not to. To take your clothes, I mean. It should only be me to see you like this...I don't want any other to see you like this."

"That is gracious of you, my wolf," Boudicca said teasingly, her smile fell then when the dress slowly fell, gathering at her feet like a pool of silk. He began to press feathery, light hearted and playful kisses down her neck whilst he laughed at her small jest. It caused her to smile in turn, even wider than it was before. "Yet what if I wanted to take your clothes for myself? What if I don't want any other to see you like this?"

"I really do love you," Robb murmured, placing his arms around her waist and hips, pulling her towards him.

"I know," Boudicca breathed, letting her eyes close. " _I love you too_."

 _From fawn, to doe, to stag I grew but I am no longer a furious stag grazing the fields,_ Boudicca thinks to herself proudly as she lets Robb lower her to the furs that were in the ground next to the fire. _Nor am I, a roaring prideful lion prowling the rocks. I am a wolf howling of winter._

 _And a wolf I will stay._


	22. Chapter Twenty One

_Riverrun_

Boudicca Baratheon

"Where in the Hells are you taking me, _husband_?" Boudicca demanded, laughing as he pulled her along.

"Somewhere," Robb answered vaguely, leading her further into the woods.

" _Somewhere,_ " She mocked, raising an eyebrow as her laughter died down. "I do not know of a place called _somewhere,_ perhaps you can enlighten me?"

"I have a surprise for you. You will like it, I promise," Robb vowed, bringing her hand up to his lips and placed a loving kiss upon her knuckles.

Boudicca rolled her eyes and playfully shoved him to the ground, she straddled him as he laughed. They stared at each other for a few moments before he reached up and met her lips with his own. He placed a soft kiss to her lips but she pulled away before he could deepen it and placed her hands on his chest, rolling her shoulders within her black fur cloak and eyed him with a fondness. Both Grey Wind and Orion were trailing somewhere behind them but by the growls and hisses that she heard, they were close. A sudden thought made a smirk crawl its way onto her face causing him to look at her in confusion.

"What?" He inquired.

"You kiss like a maid," Boudicca teased.

"I am so very sorry, my Queen," Robb jested as she lowered her head so that her forehead was resting against his own. "I didn't mean to offend."

"Trust me," She breathed with a smile on her lips. "You did anything but."

Boudicca pulls him into a fiercer kiss than the last one they shared. Robb's hands slid up from her waist and gripped below her breasts to hold her in place, as they deepened the kiss. The kiss they shared was a passionate one and for a moment, for a mere moment, she forgot about how they have suffered. Boudicca forgot about the pain, the guilt and the fury she felt towards the world. The only thing that mattered to her at this moment was Robb. As they continued to kiss, her eyes steadily closed while she kissed him through the husky and hoarse laughter that managed to escape from their lips.

"We still have far to walk," He murmured against her lips while he reached up and threaded his fingers through her long curled hair, that could never be fully tamed. "Did you know that our ancestors used to take their wives into the woods and make love to them there? You have many things to learn. I have half a mind to forget about everything else and continue with such an ancient and sacred tradition that the First Men held. I am rather conflicted about what to do, should I take you here and now or later?."

"I call shite to that tradition. You are just looking for an excuse," Boudicca scoffed, though a smile remained on her face as she sat up, staring down at him.

It has been two days since they were wed since she bound her hand to his and since she was hailed as Queen of the North. Yet, she thought that these titles would empower her but they did not, she found herself uncaring for the titles she was given and cared for nothing but him. The ever burning fire in her belly was filled with nothing but love for him. She felt no lust for him, just _love_. Pure love. And she felt herself slowly sinking deeper, wondering how he managed to capture her heart.

It still felt strange belonging to Robb and him in turn, belonging to her. All she had to do was look into his eyes and she knew...she knew that she was _safe_. They were mated for life, like the wolves themselves and not even death would sever the fierce love she held for him. Though in the safety of his arms, Boudicca also grew more paranoid each day. She was more like her late father than she initially thought. Like her father, she fell for a Stark. For a wolf. Yet he lost his wolf, not even the Stranger could tear Robb away from her. _Joffrey cannot hurt us anymore,_ Boudicca thought. She had sobbed in relief that night when the world was still and silent, her siblings and herself were safe with Robb.

 _My husband,_ the words were foreign to her along with the title 'Queen of the North'. Her smile softened considerably as she thought more on the man lying beneath her. _I am his and he is mine._ Boudicca also felt content; a feeling also foreign to her as she had not felt it in a long time. She no longer felt conflicted feelings about her family, for she had already chosen. _My family is my home,_ Boudicca thought to herself as she stared into Robb's blue eyes. _And they reside with me at Riverrun._

"What is going on inside that head of yours?" Robb questioned, placing a kiss on her cheek and with his other hand cupped her face trailing his hand down her face until he placed his hand on her neck. "I called your name twice, love. You didn't answer. You were just staring at me."

"I was thinking of nothing but sweet thoughts of you," Boudicca told him, a teasing smile appearing on her face. "Or to please you...heated ones."

"I am warning you, wife. I still have my surprise for you but first..." He trailed off causing her brows to furrow in confusion.

"What?" She asked.

"I have to make you surrender!" He exclaimed, beginning to run his fingers down her side, tickling her.

"Stop it, Stark! I mean it!" Boudicca ordered, gasping for air as she roared with laughter. She tried to pry herself away from his hold but he only pulled her back towards him, tickling her more frequently. She could feel tears fall from her eyes as she laughed harder, her grip on everything slackened allowing him to roll her onto her back. It was his turn to straddle her, though he was relentless with his touch. "P-Please...Robb... _Robb!_ " She found herself shrieking.

"Surrender," Robb commanded, grinning down at her.

"F-Fine...fine!" She yelled, squirming under him. " _I surrender-"_

"Those are the exact words I wanted to hear from my fiery woman," Robb said, sitting further up.

"I surrender if you can catch me!" Boudicca stated, shoving him away from her.

Boudicca scrambled to her feet and took off into the woods, darting through the trees. She could hear Robb let out a string of curses in the distance, causing her to laugh heartily as she spun through the trees. She laughed and taunted him as he gave chase to her, though she could hear him laughing behind her especially when he neared her, almost catching her but she took a dive over a log and turned in another direction, running away from him. A roar of thunder sounded above her and she felt the wind pick up as rain licked her face but she would herself uncaring for it and eventually slowed down, allowing him to catch her.

"Do you surrender?" Robb demanded, grabbing her by the waist and pulled her tightly to his chest.

"Aye, my King," She retorted as he backs her up against a nearby tree. " _I do_."

"You are a hard woman to catch," He informs her. "And an even harder stag to tame."

"I may be hard to catch but I am a stag no longer," Boudicca denies with a soft shake of her head as she cups his scruffy cheek, brushing her thumb against his cheek while she stares at him softly. It was rather strange to stare at him in this light, it was often a look she reserved for her little sister and brother and on occasion her mother but she found herself gifting Robb this look. "I am a wolf now. I am Boudicca, wife to Robb Stark. It is known and it is all I will ever know. Understand? I am your wife, as you are my husband. We bound our hands together. I may not think much of the Gods and they may not think much of a Kinslayer but I made my vows to them and I intend to keep them. Always and forever."

"Forever and always," He promises, his voice hoarse as he stares at her. "You have ruined me."

"As have you. You have ruined me," Boudicca whispers, taking curls of hair that had fell across his eyes and pushed them back. "You have turned me soft."

His hands cupped her face and she had no choice but to meet his blue eyes. His eyes always entranced, engulfed and consumed her whole. She arched her eyebrow towards him, it seemed as if he was inspecting her face in a new found light. A frown appeared on his face then, causing her to stiffen as he trailed his thumb down to her neck until he reached her shoulder. It was from the time Joffrey had stabbed her with his dagger, it was a dirty trick as she had her back turned to him but he did so anyway. Robb gently stroked the jagged scar and Boudicca has never felt more vulnerable than she has now, her face contorting into a grimace as she shifts uncomfortably away from him.

"How did this happen?" Robb asked curiously, cocking his head slightly to the side. "I know of how you gained the rest of your scars...how did you gain this one?"

"Joffrey," Boudicca answered vaguely.

" _Why?"_

Her eyes widened in surprise, she had never heard such darkness in his voice before. Cold, perhaps. But dark, she had never heard of him speaking to anyone in such a way, not even towards his enemies. The cold winds of the North could not compare to the tone of his voice. Boudicca tried to suppress a shudder, reminding herself that it was not her he was angry at. She sucked in a sharp breath as he demanded once again how it happened, his tone was becoming more icier than it had been. Her averted eyes slowly came to look upon his face.

"Joffrey's a cunt," She answered simply but the look that he held on his face let her know he would not accept that as an answer, so she went further into her explanation. "He threatened me and I threatened me. My brother has a talent for creeping up on me, he always has and always will. As a child, I could never feel safe, happy nor content. He would always ruin it in some manner, be it by hurting Tommen or Myrcella or hurting one of the handmaidens. My brother always had to do something and when I stood up for them...he always attacked me. He would sometimes attack me with words, sometimes with threats and other times he would be more physical. Most of my scars are not from war, rather, they are from my brother and my mother would always turn a blind eye to it."

"You rarely speak of your mother and brother...why did you not tell me before?" Robb asked, his frown deepening. "You can tell me anything."

"To talk about Joffrey...it is a difficult, sore subject and it is the past," She reassured him, struggling for words. "The past is in the past."

"You do not ever have to keep things from me," He says, ducking down and kissed the scar that ran down her neck and shoulder. Boudicca eyed the back of Robb's head strangely when he gives her neck a tender lick. _Like a wolf licking its wounds,_ Boudicca remarked to herself as he pulls back and green meets blue once more. He cupped her face in his hands and stares at her. "I wish to know of everything. You do not have to hold back anything."

" _Everything?"_ Boudicca repeats, blinking slowly as she takes in the words.

"Everything," Robb confirms.

"Ask away," Boudicca urges, seeing thousands of questions dancing in his eyes.

"Did you ever love Joffrey?" He asks, causing her to still.

" _Once_ ," She painfully replies, her heart beginning to feel a familiar ache. "I have loved all siblings fiercely, do not doubt that. I did once love Joffrey. Anyone would have been dead before they even hit the ground if they so much as laid a finger upon them or disrespected them. You may or may not believe it but, Joffrey used to be kind. This, this _madness_ took over him. The gardens of King's Landing used to echo the laughter my brother and I used to share...now it echoes screams. I remember I used to carry my brother about everywhere on my back and we used to play with wooden swords and let mother read us stories. I made a promise to my father that I would always protect them and I intend to do so. Myrcella and Tommen, I will love them until the end of my days. Joffrey...Joffrey is where it does get complicated. We loved each other once but the love we bore one another turned bitter as he turned cruel. Joffrey will always have a part in the deepest, darkest place of my heart along with my mother no matter how much I _despise_ him. But if it came between _you_ and them. I would always choose _you._ You are my family now. And together, we will start a new one."

"You do not have to worry about him anymore. You do not have to worry about anything," Robb said, giving her a grateful look that she had told him but she could see a possessiveness lurk in his eyes, a look she had never seen before. "You are my wife, my shield mate and my best friend. You are mine, as I am yours. Until our last breaths. Gods, you still have no clue of what you do to me. I have wanted you since our days in Winterfell. I love you, Boudicca Stark."

" _I'm yours_."

The words she spoke then sealed her fate and she knew that she was his, from the moment they had set eyes on one another. Boudicca may not have loved him at first sight, she along with her ancestors would curse and her children's children, if she had any, for all eternity if she fell in love with him at first glance. Her attraction to him became lustful and then that lust turned to love and now, love was all she felt for the auburn haired, blue eyed wolf in front of her.

* * *

They had walked further into the woods, the storm raged on when worry began to pool in her belly. Boudicca grew worried that she would not get back to her siblings in time. It had became a tradition or ritual of sorts that she told them a story or sang them a song each night before they went to sleep, while she did not doubt their safety with Ser Davos or the Lady Catelyn and Sansa, she still felt a fierce protectiveness and possessiveness when it came to her younger siblings, Myrcella and Tommen. Although she was a wolf, she was still a lioness protecting her cubs. She felt Robb's eyes on her once more and she turned to look at him as they continued to walk through the dark woods.

"Am I easy on the eyes, Stark?" She quipped.

"Aye, though I sometimes look at you and wonder if you are real," He admits.

"Oh, I am definitely real," Boudicca confirms. "How can I prove to the great Robb Stark that I am by no means, a dream?"

"Surprise me," Robb tells her, brushing back the wet hair away from her face as he peppers her face with wet kisses.

" _I love you,"_ She confessed, causing him to stiffen.

Robb pulled away from her and she saw his eyes fill with a childlike innocence, an innocence that reminded her too much of her young siblings. The innocence left his eyes before a happiness filled them and he laughed joyfully, pulling her into a passionate kiss. Their hands roamed each other's bodies as the rain grew heavier, the cold rain was pelted at them and the thunder rumbled in the dark sky above them. Boudicca heard Robb groan and she threaded her fingers through his damp, curly hair.

"We should head back to Riverrun," Boudicca murmured against his lips, breaking the kiss momentarily. She pressed her forehead against his own while he pulled her closer to his chest, holding her by the hips and she embraced him and the warmth he was giving her. "You can show me the surprise the morrow, I do not think I will be able to resist you much longer. It seems us Baratheon's are not very good at holding back our emotions, especially when it comes to our wolves."

"We are near the place," He assured her, squeezing her waist softly.

"Where are we, Robb?" Boudicca asked, finding herself asking this for the sixth time tonight.

"My mother used to take me here as a child," Robb said. "I was only little so I do not remember."

"You were at Riverrun as a child?" She inquired curiously.

"I was born here," Robb admitted, chuckling as he led her through the woods. "I lived here with my mother until my first name day."

"I didn't know that. I seem to learn more about the ever elusive Young Wolf each passing day," Boudicca hummed. "Just yesterday I found out you loved lemon cakes. I thought you were born at Winterfell."

"No, I was born at Riverrun. My mother fell pregnant with me shortly after my father left to go fight in the war, she came to Riverrun for safety. I was born here. I never went to Winterfell nor did I meet my Lord father until my first name day," Robb explained, though she could hear the pain lingering in his voice when he mentioned his father. To him, he felt pain, anger and sadness towards the death of his father but she felt nothing but guilt. Guilt that her brother had killed a noble, loyal man and she was not strong enough to save him.

"Your father-" She began sincerely, her voice holding a firmness as she faced him. "He will have been _so_ proud of you. The man you have become."

"Your father would be too. Not very men can say they have a strong woman for a daughter," He replied. "You were born in King's Landing, were you not?"

"Aye," Boudicca said, thinking on the tale of her birth. "I gained my names and titles before I could even take. I was born during the great storm that had ravaged the capital, my mother went into labour with me when the storm had arrived. I brought the storm that killed hundreds and destroyed most if not all of the Red Keep and Flea Bottom. The Blackwater flooded. It wasn't until I came into this world that the storm left. I was hailed the Bringer of Storms. At first, it was my mother, uncles and father that called me it but soon enough the name caught on and everyone hailed me as it before my first name."

Both she and Robb fell silent once more, reminiscing on good memories that they had when life was innocent and the air was sweet instead of bitter. The rain fell harder, hitting against their skin harshly. Robb pulled her further into his side, wrapping her up in his cloak so that they both could seek each other's warmth. Boudicca was about to make a jest about his chivalry until her mouth fell slowly agape, her eyes landing on one of the most beautiful sights she has ever bore witness to other than Winterfell.

It was different to the Godswood inside of Riverrun, this Godswood felt wilder as she took in the various weirwood trees. She turned her head to look at Robb with an expression of awe but he merely laughed when he caught sight of her face. With their trunks milk white and the rain upon their red leaves looking like blood, the trees were a beautiful yet unusual sight to behold. The storm seemed to only add to the mysterious beauty the trees held. Boudicca could not find it within herself to say anything as they walked closer, she turned to look at him and looked deep into his Tully blue eyes and she found that he never looked more strong and handsome than he did within the rain and the cold. _A true Northerner,_ she thought to herself. He noticed her staring and gave her a slanted grin.

"What is it?" He spoke up. "You are staring again."

"It is beautiful," Boudicca said softly. "Peaceful."

"I love you," Robb said, causing her to smile.

"As do I," She replied, cupping his cheek. "You do not have to tell me every hour or so, though, you have done so for the past two days."

"Aye," He replied. "And I will continue to do so until my last breath."

Her hands tangled into his wet hair as he slipped his fingers through her own heavy, wet and dark locks. Boudicca could compare Robb's auburn hair to the leaves of the heart trees as she took in his damp curls. They were both shivering from the icy winds that had picked up and the cold rain that met with their already wet skin and clothing. She sniffed slightly, burying herself further into both their cloaks so that they were closer than before as it seemed not even their cloaks could hide them from the beginning of winter.

"We should head back now," Robb told her. "I have shown you what I wished for you to see. My mother will end up sending out a search party for us if we are not back. I do not know about you but I do not want our men hearing Blackfish scolding us or dragging us by the ears to my mother. You may think I jest but I do not, he is ballsy enough to do it."

"Aye, we do. I need a barrel of wine, a warm fire and an equally warm bed with a wolf at my side," Boudicca agreed.

"I think I can arrange that for my Queen," Robb said, a smirk growing on his lips.

"Aye, Grey Wind will be lovely company along with my wine and fire," She replied, causing his smug smirk to fade dramatically. Boudicca threw her head back and laughed, stumbling into him and bumped shoulders with him a playful roughness as they began to head back to the castle. She eyed the dense woods ahead of them with raised brows before her eyes landed on both Orion and Grey Wind, who were running circles around them. "How far have you taken me, Robb Stark? Did you intend to steal me away from our people? I have siblings to get back to and no doubt, a very worried Onion Knight."

"I don't like the way that Onion Knight stares at you. He stares at you as if..." He stills, looking at her before he looks ahead.

"As if?" Boudicca presses, her brows furrowing as she stares at him.

"Never mind, Boudicca. The castle is not far from here," Robb told her, though he turned to face her once more. "I thought you were one for adventure. If you want, there is an old fort not too far off from here."

"I have to decline...I'd rather get out of these clothes, though you certainly appeal to my sense of adventure and curiosity, don't you?" Boudicca teased though her face became serious once more. She took, this time, to notice that the winds have been growing colder and have been doing so each day that has passed since her arriving in the Riverlands and she wondered what it must be like in the North if the Riverlands are this cold. Boudicca has never known winter, not truly, they have had winter in King's Landing but she would not consider it much of a winter, the sun still shined and no snow fell across the land. A dread pooled in her stomach, she did not know why but she felt as if this winter would be a long one that would last for years and years despite how ridiculous it sounded. "Winter is Coming."

"The words of House Stark," He stated, placing a hand on the back of her neck. "Those words are ours and they will become our children's words."

"You would like a child then?" She questioned curiously.

"...Aye," Robb murmured, the wistfulness in his voice making her hardened face soften. "I often imagine it. I dreamt of it after the night we wed. I dreamt that I was coming back from war and I was riding for Winterfell. I journeyed for the Godswood and there you stood, underneath the heart tree by the pool with a very swollen stomach, with a babe already at your breast but of course, there were our other children. A girl like Arya, running up and laughing as I spun her round, high in the air while an older girl like Sansa was sat by the pool, looking up from her book and smiling widely. Though...I would have to keep myself steady though because of the four boys bounding for me from behind your skirts."

"How many babes are we talking of?" Boudicca encouraged, raising a brow.

"A whole pack of them," Robb breathed, his smile widening. "I have always wanted daughters and sons."

"And how many would that be exactly?" She challenged.

"Hm, I am rather unsure. I would like at least twenty or so," He said, chuckling as he spoke each word. "Think of all the grandchildren we would have."

"I never knew I had married Walder Frey," Boudicca mocked, feigning a helpless look as she searched the woods. "Where has my wolf gone?"

"It is a secret aspiration of mine to be like Walder Frey," Robb informed her teasingly as he winked at her, causing her to laugh once more.

"Well…we better get on with it then, if we are to match him," She said, her lips pulling into a smirk as mischief danced in her eyes.

* * *

Author's Note: Hey, I hope you enjoyed these chapters and if you have any questions, feel free to ask. I would firstly like to give massive thanks to everyone who has read and reviewed this story along with everyone that has made this story one of your favourites and have also followed this story, I really appreciate. The next update should be up soon!

 _Reviews-_

ZabuzasGirl: Thank you, I hope you like these chapters!

day2467: Thank you and hopefully you like these chapters! I wanted to write the wedding from the point of view from both of them because I felt it would give the chapter a nicer touch and I always like doing a different pov aside from Boudicca's to let the readers know what other characters think. Her morals will always be a part of the story along with conflict she feels as a character. I always like writing how characters develop, especially turning points and she will be battling with her morals for a long time.

ladyres: Thank you for reviewing, this isn't the last of Brienne and she will appear in future chapters. Yep, they have finally married! I can't reveal anything about who lives or dies yet but I might keep Dacey Mormont alive.

jean d'arc: Thank you! I'm glad you like that part about Boudicca, I gave her that sense of guilt to add more to her character than meets the eye. As much as I don't want anything happening to them, unfortunately, a lot of things will and from that, she will go down a darker road. In a few chapters, everyone will see how much she has in common with Tywin.

WolfWarrior225: I like doing parallels and making history repeat itself, so Boudicca will become like Robert as they both will long for a Stark that they have lost and her heart will always belong to Robb.

celticank: Thank you, I'm glad you liked them and hopefully you like these ones! I can say all of them will be at the Twins but I won't mention who will be in the hall during the Red Wedding.

RHatch89: Thank you!

Saint River: Thank you for reviewing! You are definitely right in thinking that House Tyrell will ally themselves with Joffrey now that Margaery is a widow and Joffrey has no betrothed, there will be pov's with Tyrion and Cersei soon. House Frey won't be happy at all and in the next chapter, there will be a confrontation between House Frey, Boudicca and Robb.


	23. Chapter Twenty Two

_Riverlands_

Boudicca Baratheon

"How are you fairing, my cub?" Boudicca inquired, looking to Tommen in the mirror while she combed his hair, untangling the knots from his blond hair that was like gold under the sun. "I am sorry that I was not there last night."

"I'm fine now," Her brother replied, his green eyes peering into her matching eyes from the mirror with an expression of both contentment and excitement. "Ser Davos has been telling me stories of his travels, they are all exciting like your stories. Your stories are scarier, though. Do you think I will ever get to see the Titan of Braavos? I hope I do. Or maybe we could sail across the Narrow Sea? I would love to travel the world when I am older, will you let me Icca?"

" _You will._ I will gift you the finest ship within the Seven Kingdoms, I will gift it to you once you are of the right age," Boudicca said, encouraging his dreams.

Her eyes landed on Ser Davos who was sat in the corner of the room, closest to the light of the window and was mumbling underneath his breath, no doubt learning new words from the large book planted on the table. Her thoughts conflicted, her uncle Jaime had somehow escaped his prison yet he made no move to steal Myrcella or Tommen away into the night like she once did, instead, he and Brienne of Tarth escaped their cells and fled. It seemed each passing day tension was growing and she could feel it with each intake of breath when she was sat at war or council meetings.

It was also because of her sister and brother. They were innocent and sweet things. They did not deserve to be bastardised for what her mother and uncle, or in their case, _father_ had done. She was frightened for her them, never knowing when someone might tell them the truth or would attack them. _You will look out for them,_ Boudicca remarked to herself as she eyed the sleeping lion lounging in front of the burning fire that lit up the dreary chambers and almost scoffed at the sight of the snoring lion before turning back to face her little brother. _As will I._

"I had a bad dream last night," Tommen mumbled, causing her eyebrows to rise as she set down the brush. "You weren't there."

"You did?" Boudicca asked, feeling guilt while she turned him around in his seat to face her and cupped his cheeks, pulling him closer towards her. "What of? What monster do I need to put to the sword? I thought I already told the monster with the three eyes to piss off?"

"I dreamt that 'Cella and I were lion cubs. I dream that we were running away from a great storm. There were wolves, lions and stags chasing us," He explained, causing her to bristle by the mentioning of the animals that were chasing her younger siblings and by the looks of it, Ser Davos stiffened. _Wolves, lions and stags._ "We searched high and low, far and wide for _you._ They kept chasing and hunting us. I knew that they wanted to kill us. All we kept hearing was your voice leading us away...and that is when I woke up. I was _so_ scared, Icca."

"How about...how about I tell you a story?" Boudicca questioned, hoisting him up and placed him on her lap, allowing him to bury his head into her neck and shoulder. "You know the one that our mother used to tell us? How about I tell you that story? The story about the mother lion and her cub? Though I think I will tell it a bit differently than to mother, alright? There once was a mother lion and her cubs...they lived in the wintry woods during the Long Night."

"Like these woods?" Tommen asked curiously.

"No," Boudicca laughs, continuing on with her story as she adjusts him on her lap. Her eyes flickered briefly to the Onion Knight and he was watching them both with an intensity as she weaved the tale. "These woods are gentler and far kinder to our souls. I am talking about the harsher woods of the North. In the wintry woods of the North, there lived a great lioness mother and her cubs. The lioness had two cubs and she loved them, she loved them fiercer than any storm that they faced...but there were many other creatures that lived in the dark, cold woods too. Horrible, _cruel_ things...evil things that wanted to hurt her and her cubs."

"What things?" He inquired.

"Like...like dragons," She replied, her breath hitching slightly as she looked down at him.

"Dragons don't exist, Icca. The dragons are gone and come from stories," Tommen stated, a puzzled look crossing his face. _Not all of them,_ she thought to herself.

" _stags...flayed men...dead men..._ they all lived in the woods as well. The cubs could hear them fighting deep into the night. The cubs were terrified of what was to come, they feared deeply for themselves and their mother. All they could do was weep. Though the mother took it in her stride, bringing them close to her and said, _'You mustn't be afraid. You are a lion and we will bow to no creature and we will bow to no man. My cubs, we must be patient. For a time will come when all the beasts will bow to you...they will look to us and they will be the ones to bow. Not us. From the birds in the sky to beasts of the land to the fish in the sea. They will all come to you and crown you in gold,'"_ Boudicca said her voice a hushed whisper.

Boudicca felt a shiver run down her spine, it was as if a cold finger trailed down her back as she thought back to the time of her innocence, of her youth, when it was her mother who told her this story. And thinking back on the story, it had not been long ago since she was last told it. Anytime she was sick or frightened, her mother used to tell her the story through the fever she had and she remembered the story graphically. Her mother repeated the story over and over to her like a mantra. She hummed slightly, shifting Tommen slightly but held onto him tighter and continued despite what she felt.

"And the little cub said to the lioness, ' _will I be fiercer like you mother?'"_ She continued. "' _Yes,'_ his mother tells him. ' _You will be stronger and fiercer than I ever was.'"_

Boudicca leant over and placed a long lasting kiss to his forehead, her lips linger on his head as she threaded her fingers through his hair and pressed his forehead to her chin and lips, keeping him closer than he ever has been. She let her eyes close and pulled back slightly as he threw his arms around her neck, almost knocking her off the wooden chair while he pulled her into a tight embrace which she returned, wrapping her own arms around him.

"As long as there is still breath within my body and as long as my heart still beats...I will keep you safe, Tommen. I will keep you both safe. _I promise,"_ Boudicca vowed solemnly, though there was a fierce undertone in her words as she asserted her oath to him. "Now, I think a tray of lemon cakes will be coming your way soon if you take Orion and go see Myrcella and Sansa. I think they are in the Lady Catelyn's chambers. Off you go, I will see you later."

"Yes, mother," He said absentmindedly as he called for Orion, sliding off her lap. She watched as the lion rose to his feet and stalked towards them, brushing himself against her legs as his tail flicked back and forth but she along with her brother stiffened when they realised the words that came from his mouth. Her younger brother turned to look at her with widening eyes before they quickly averted to the ground and his shaking hands clasped together as he bowed his head slightly and mumbled, "S-Sorry..."

"You have nothing to be sorry for," Boudicca said dismissively, though her heart filled with a strange feeling as she watched him give a gentle command to Orion.

With that, her lion and her little brother had left her chambers, leaving her alone with Ser Davos. Boudicca finds herself letting out a shaky breath, slouching into her chair and she reached over to the vanity table and grasped her wine goblet, bringing it to her lips. Her eyes trailed down to the dark contents within the goblet and downed it with haste as if she had never had a drink in years but even then, the wine did little to nothing for her.

"May I ask you something, my Queen?" Ser Davos asked, a gruffness in his voice.

"Of course, Ser," She answered, looking up from her wine to look at him.

"For your lion..." He began. "Where did you come across such a name?"

"It came to me within a dream, a lot of shite some would say...but this dream..." Boudicca trailed off, inhaling and exhaling slowly as she stared out of the window. "It was one of the most beautiful yet terrifying dreams I have ever had, it felt so _real._ I dreamt of a man, though he did not seem like a mere mortal man. I was gifted the name in a dream, that was what the man called himself. It was one of his many names he has been given, long forgotten. The man proclaimed he was the Warrior himself."

"Strange dream," The Onion Knight remarked. "I have never experienced such a dream myself. To be fair, I don't really dream."

"My uncle Stannis, have you received any word from him as of late?" Boudicca inquired curiously, cocking her head to the side as she inspected his stern yet soft scruffy and bearded face. "The last news I was given was weeks ago. It has been lacking for weeks and I find myself beginning to worry."

"I do not know, my Queen," Ser Davos said, looking to her with hesitation. "I wish I did."

"I do not know if he is dead or alive, and let us not forget my cousin," She sighed, rising to her feet and approached the window near him before turning to face him fully with furrowed brows. "I have a bounty placed on my head. _King_ Joffrey wants me dead and I do not know how many others will desire me dead. The Reach? The Westernlands? The Crownlands? What of the Targaryen's across the Narrow Sea? Perhaps they seek to have my head too. I am the last Baratheon along with Stannis and Shireen."

"There will be many attempts on your life, my Queen. They will go after Myrcella and Tommen. They will go after House Stark. They will come after everyone and everything that you care for," Ser Davos told her. "The Lannister's and their boy King will send assassins after you wherever you. The Targaryen's, wherever they are in the world will no doubt try to end your life at some point. At every turn, there will be a battle you will face be it with words or with swords. Your brother will not stop until you and your family are dead."

"No one will have them. I won't let them" She snarled, looking down at him as she clutched her chest, digging her nails into her flesh.

"They will not have _you_ either," Ser Davos swore, looking her in the eye though she noticed the strange look he had given her.

" _Nor you_."

* * *

Boudicca made her way through the halls of Riverrun after attending one of the many meetings she had with the small folk. The folk of Riverrun were treating her rather strangely, they used pat her on the shoulder as she passed or nod to her in respect but they bowed to her this time while she passed. Boudicca eyed a few drunkards walking along, toasting _loudly_ to her and her marriage to the King of the North.

Boudicca looked to Orion, who grumbled in front of her as he prowled down the hall in front of her, looking over his shoulder ever so often to make sure she was still behind him. As she passed down the hall she encountered Lord Roose of House Bolton, she gave him a blank sideways glance as he stilled and turned to look at her with empty eyes.

"Problem, my Lord?" Boudicca asked coldly, stopping to turn to him while he stalked towards her, hatred present in her eyes as she stared at him.

"Yes, Your Grace," Lord Roose replied.

He stood stiff and rigid, a mere few inches away from her face that she could smell blood on his breath. Boudicca rose a brow at what seemed to be his attempt to intimidate her, it did not take an idiot to realise that he wanted to scare her into some form of submission or that he wanted to see how easily it would take to break her. _Joffrey,_ she thought to herself. Boudicca had been beaten, broken and bruised many a time, though she survived and licked her wounds afterwards. _From water to snow to ice. No man can hurt me. Not anymore._

"And?" She challenged, her voice equally as low and her stormy eyes remained locked on his steel ones.

"Your father may have been a Baratheon but you truly are a Lannister, through and through," Roose stated coldly, looking on impassively at her as he stepped closer, his rancid breath meeting her face making her almost tempted to screw her face up in disgust but instead she listened intently to what he had to say. "You may cover it up and deny it, claiming yourself to be a stag or wolf or whatever beast you now claim to be...but, _you_ will always be a Lannister _lion._ The granddaughter of Tywin. The daughter of Cersei. You are a _K_ _inslayer,_ how can anyone trust you? It seems not even a few weeks ago that you were treated with hostility...and now, you are a Queen with an army at her back. Tell me, what lies did you tell from your serpent-like mouth to make that idiot boy believe you? How did you deceive him?"

"I have two weapons," Boudicca retaliated with a heavy sneer. "The first is the sword that I wield, the second...the second is between my legs."

"I knew that he would fall for a cunt, foolish boy," Lord Bolton said monotonously. "All it took was for you to spread your legs to gain his affections, his loyalty, his army and his name. Is that how you gained the Stormlords? And what of the small folk, did they all get a glance? Or was it just him?"

"Your blade is as sharp as your tongue-" She begins fiercely, taking a step forward. "I don't like sharp tongues, I tend to cut them out. If you want a peek, why don't you ask my husband?"

"The tables have turned," He leered with an icy laugh, that brought a chill to her. "You have so much power and confidence...it would be a shame to see it all be taken from you. I remember a time not long ago when you didn't have any power nor confidence. You were just a frightened little girl scared for her siblings, running into the arms of a wolf. You like to think you are immortal, do you not? I bet you believe no one will be able to harm or kill you because our King in the North spilt himself into you and said a few vows to you. You may be Robb Stark's wife but that does not mean you or your _bastards_ are safe. Not from me, not from anyone."

" _You touch them-"_ She hissed viciously, drawing out her knife and pressed it against his throat, backing him against the wall so that they truly couldn't be seen. " _I will end you. I will rip you apart."_

 _"_ I would not harm you nor them. I am merely advising you," Lord Bolton informed her but she pressed the knife harsher into his skin as a warning gesture, her wild eyes fixated on his face. "You have many enemies, Bringer of Storms. As does the Young Wolf."

"I did not ask nor want your advice, Lord Bolton," Boudicca whispered harshly, withdrawing her knife from his throat.

"Very well, Your Grace. Though I shall give you one last warning," Lord Roose began, taking a step back from her. "You know of the game and only the strongest of players survive, Boudicca. And we happen to be the strongest amongst them. Take my advice and trust me when I tell you to be careful, you cannot trust anyone. I suggest you take your siblings and leave, along with that Onion Knight of yours. The man seems to dote on you."

"You think I should take advice from you, _Leech Lord?"_ Boudicca seethed, her eyes narrowing further when he gave her a cold and calculating smile.

"Intelligent girl," The Lord of Dreadfort smirked.

"Tell me, Lord Bolton. Are you a fan of music?" She asked mockingly, smiling falsely as she stares at him.

"No, I am not," He replied, his jaw clenched and his teeth gritting together.

"Ah, but you must know the song, the Rains of Castamere?" Boudicca pressed on. "They used to play it countless of times when my grandfather came for a visit."

"I am aware of the story," Lord Bolton informed her, looking at her in disdain.

"Aware?" Boudicca mused, her eyes never leaving his. "The House of Reyne was a very powerful family. They were the second wealthiest house in Westeros to House Lannister. House Tyrell is now the second wealthiest family in Westeros, do you know how that came to be? House Reyne of Castamere decided to rebel against my grandfather, Lord Tywin. Tell me, Lord Bolton, do you know where House Reyne is now?"

"Why are we talking about extinct houses?" He grits out, causing her to throw her head back and laugh drily.

" _Extinct_?" She repeated, recovering and regaining her composure. "True, House Reyne is long gone but I find that is a _too_ gentle word for what happened to those of House Reyne. I prefer the term massacred. It proves that in the end, we are just all pawns in a never ending game that is played. Lannister. Baratheon. Targaryen. Stark. Tyrell. _Bolton._ We are all just pawns in a game. This house makes a move and then that house makes a move. And on and on we play-" Boudicca pauses, grasping him by the shoulder and roughly pulled him towards her with her knife once against at his throat as she whispered threateningly in his ear, spitting out the words of venom. " _If you ever threaten me or my family again, it will be your family I will massacre and it will be your house that will become extinct."_

Roose Bolton looked on at her with widening eyes as she pulled away, though he was not afraid like one may think, that would be foolish of her and prideful of her to say that he was afraid. Roose Bolton of Dreadfort was cautious, hesitant and looked to be considering her as a threat. He gave a firm nod, turning sharply on his heel to talk his leave. Boudicca watched his retreating figure with cold, green eyes before turning to walk away herself, letting the humming the song in a threatening mock echo throughout the hall.

" _And so he spoke, and so he spoke, that Lord of Castamere,"_ Boudicca sang, clasping her hands behind her back as Orion prowled by her side, growling at anyone who came too close. _"But now the rains weep o'er his hall, with no one there to hear. Yes, now the rains weep o'er his hall and not a soul to hear._ "


	24. Chapter Twenty Three

_Riverrun_

Boudicca Baratheon

It has been two moons since her marriage to Robb and she could feel the wind changing, the world was getting colder and darker yet it was also a better world than it once was at the start of the war. The attacks on the Riverlands were less frequent and the small folk were slowly recovering from the attacks. The attacks had stopped since her grandfather had apparently left for King's Landing. At first, she struggled with her duties as a Queen but she slowly found herself settling into the role. _To be a Queen,_ Boudicca thought as she stared at her fingers that were entangled in her sister's blonde locks. _Is glorious to those who desire it is unpleasant to those who will bear it._ A quiet giggling drew her away from her conflicted mind.

Boudicca looked into the large mirror to her left side and saw Beth plait Jeyne's hair and Jeyne plaits Sansa's. In turn, the auburn haired girl braided Boudicca's. And as her own hair was braided, she would comb Myrcella's hair while her young sister would groom Orion's mane as he watched the five females with curiosity. To Boudicca, it has become a ritual of some sort for them. After they had broken their fast, the Ladies of Riverrun would gather in her sister's chambers and braid each other's hair. In the beginning, she was reluctant to as she was not entirely fond of sitting still for a long period of time but she was eventually swayed by Myrcella and Sansa.

Boudicca rarely saw anyone other than Robb, Ser Davos and Blackfish. Her days have consisted mostly of planning their next move against the Lannister's, arranging and attending meetings. Boudicca considered it a relief to have an ounce of normality if she could call their lives normal. Her fingers remained tangled in her sister's blonde locks that was like spun gold and began to twist a section of her hair into a small braid while holding small red beads to thread through her sister's hair. She adjusted her crossed legs as she sat on the uncomfortable stone floor, despite the fur rugs that had been placed there for comfort against the cold. Boudicca felt a small tug and raised her chin slightly to give Sansa easier access to the top of her head as she plaited whatever braid she was doing tighter.

Her eyes flickered up to her handmaiden, Eva who had finished placing coals upon the fire. The old was yet another little normality she had gained. The grey haired woman was tasked with placing coal upon the fires and with drawing both her and her sister's baths, the two of them had quickly bonded as well after talking every morning and night. The reason she got along with the woman, who was older than her by many years, was that she reminded of her father in a way. _My father was never afraid to call me out on any shite I told him,_ Boudicca thought to herself. _I am glad I have folk like that at my side, not some arse lickers._

"You are not pronouncing it," The woman pressed as she knelt next to her. "It is _Valar Morghulis_."

"Val...Valar Morgalis," Boudicca slurred, pausing momentarily from braiding her sister's hair as laughter erupted from Myrcella.

"You do not listen!" Eva retorted. " _Valar Morghulis_."

"Valar...Valar Morgolis," She tried once more.

" _Valar Morghulis,"_ The brown eyed woman said slower, emphasising the words.

" _Valar..._ " Boudicca began, her face becoming one of concentration. " _Valar Morghulis_."

"I never thought you would get it right," Eva drawled, causing her to shoot the woman a look.

" _Valar Morghulis_ ," Boudicca retorted, looking up at the woman with a slanted smirk.

" _Valar Dohaeris,"_ The woman replied.

Another way the woman was helping Boudicca was by teaching her of new languages and cultures. Eva had once told her, that she and her family of healers were travellers that had originated from Essos. The woman had told her they moved to where work was. Eva had told her also sorts of different stories, cultures, legends and languages. That is what added to her interest in the wise woman, she always had something to teach her, be it a new word or a part of a culture. Boudicca felt like a small child again learning swordplay from Ser Barristan or from her Septa, not that she ever listened to that strict crone. Just as she was about to ask what those greetings meant, Eva made a move closer towards her and cupped her breasts.

"Eva...I'm a married woman," Boudicca jested awkwardly, shifting her gaze away from the woman and averted her eyes to the ground.

They were close enough but they weren't _that_ close.

"I have been watching you very carefully. You have not bled. You have missed two bleeds," Eva told her, causing her to still. "You are changing. I can _feel_ it. Your body is growing."

All she could hear was gasps sound throughout her sister's chambers before everything fell silent to her. Her hands and face slackened just as her mother slowly fell agape from shock. It was true, Boudicca had not bled since her marriage to Robb and that was two moon's ago but she merely brushed it off, claiming it was something else entirely. Boudicca knew of many women who missed their bleeds, particularly her mother but it was not always because of a babe.

At first, she wanted to deny any existence of it and tried to brush it off but she could not. It all fell in place. Her more vivid night terrors, the reason for her being sick in the mornings and she could not even take a single sip of wine without being sick. Those were her main problems but she had noticed various things different about her body but she assumed it was because she was putting on weight. It was always easy for her to put on weight. And also both Lady Catelyn and Lady Maege had been acting stranger around her, eyeing her stomach every so often before looking at her with some sort of recognition. _I am with child,_ Boudicca thought slowly as the reality of it all sunk in. _This is dangerous._

Boudicca was no fool, she knew that if word got out that she was carrying a child, a child of Robb Stark no less, she would be sought out and hunted once again. Her peaceful life that she was rebuilding would be torn apart. She was _tired_ , all her life she had been fighting for this and for that but after the death of her uncle, she had grown tired. Her brother reluctantly came to mind when she thought on the babe in her belly, Joffrey had always told her and her sister that if he ever found out that they were carrying a child, he would have them and their babe killed immediately.

 _If you ever do spread your legs, like the whore you are and end up with a child. I will have it cut out and fed to you,_ Joffrey's cruel words consumed most of her dark and conflicted thoughts. Her younger brother hated children, he always had, despite being a child himself and she knew his hatred had once originated from paranoia. He always feared that if she or her sister gave birth to a boy, then they would try to usurp the throne from him. _Look at us now brother,_ Boudicca thought bitterly. _It is a woman who dares to take the throne from you. You should have always feared me._ Though, the malicious thoughts about her mad brother were placed with gentler and kinder ones. She begins to think about Robb. He had always desired children, more so than herself, nothing would make him happier. And to imagine the look on his face when she would tell him made her heart swell.

"Oh, Boudicca!" Sansa awed, she shuffled around to face her along with Jeyne and Beth." Robb will be overjoyed! A baby!"

"This is wonderful news!" Jeyne proclaimed.

"The Gods have blessed you!" Beth agreed, clasping her hands together as she giggled just as her sister turned around in excitement.

"I cannot believe it! We are going to be aunts, Sansa!" Myrcella exclaimed, squirming where she sat. "It is a gift from the Mother herself!"

"It is. It seems you have ensnared the wolf," Eva remarked, placing a hand on her shoulder as if to reassure her. "I am not wrong. I will take you to the Maester if that will settle your mind?"

Boudicca felt a strange feeling overwhelm her, her palms begin to sweat as did her forehead when a fluttery feeling of shock ran through her body when she thought on Robb. Ever since she was a child, both her mother and father had twisted her views on love. She had always had conflicted thoughts when it came to love as her mother and father had different views. _You must love no one but your children,_ her mother had once informed her as they both rejected another proposal. _Anyone else is an enemy. The love you hold, hold it for no one but your blood. An outsider does not deserve your love._ While her father always believed strongly that loved exist, he fought a war and rebellion after Rhaegar had stolen Lady Lyanna. Yet, her mother and father both agreed on one thing.

 _It is a poison, love is dangerous. A sweet poison that will end you._

 _If it is a poison,_ Boudicca thought as she gingerly lay her palm against her stomach. _Then I will gladly consume it._

"Are you going to tell him?" Sansa asked eagerly, causing her to look up and she nodded.

"I will once the Maester confirms it," Boudicca tells them, finding herself unable to stop the smile growing on her face. "You cannot tell anyone until then. Promise me."

She listened barely to the excited agreements and squeals as she absentmindedly gripped her stomach with care. Boudicca was conflicted and until she told Robb, confliction would be all she felt until then. If they should perhaps face a battle with her grandfather and brother, she would not be able to lead her army into the upcoming battles or wars to come, as she would sooner or later swell. Though, once she thought of Robb's bright smile that always somehow made her heart flutter and stop for a moment or so, her dark thoughts seemed to leave her alone. _One day,_ she thinks to herself. _He may smile so brightly that my heart will stop._

Boudicca got to her feet slowly and began to pace her sister's chambers back and forth, like a lion prowling in a cage as she thought of everything. Inside of her was the future King or Queen, if her child so desired. This was the Bringer of Storms and the Young Wolf's future child. She began to ponder on what their babe may look like. Will it be a girl, with a wild spirit that could rival her own with blue eyes and dark hair? Or will it be a boy, with the loyalty and nobility Ned Stark once had with furious green eyes that would compete with her own?

" _A child_ ," Boudicca murmured, approaching the window with her hand resting on her belly.

* * *

 _You appear to be with child._

The words of the Maester had echoed in her mind as she stared at the candlelight beside her, raising her goblet to her lips. Boudicca let her thoughts drift away from her book and dreamt of life without a war. A life that was _good._ She dreamt that her cruel brother had turned caring once more, letting Tommen and the brother she never got to know, Steffon chase him through the trees of Winterfell along with the young Stark boys. She dreamt that her her sister and the Stark girls were playing with the direwolves and her lion in the snow that was falling gently to the ground as Lady Catelyn and Lord Eddard watched on fondly beside her father as he drank merrily. That she had a babe at her breast, who would never know of war or those terrible games that she is playing. And when night had fallen, her family was safe and she turned, cradling her babe and there Robb was, lying in bed with a smile on his face while he slept.

They were both _crownless_ and _happy_. And _free_.

"What is troubling you, love?" Robb called, walking into their chambers causing her to jump from her peaceful yet bitter thoughts.

Boudicca placed her book on the history of House Tully, that she had seen Ser Davos trying to read earlier with her sister, down on the table. It seemed she had been too deep in thought and had only read two pages before she drifted off into dreaming of a better, kinder world. This also allowed her to be easily startled by him as she jumped from her chair and rose to her feet, a heavy frown on her face as she watched a smile break out on his own when he had seen he caused her to startle, her eyes narrowed but she couldn't help but let her features soften when she heard him laugh.

"You seem to get off on scaring me, Robb Stark," Boudicca retorted. "It looks like you are taking great enjoyment in scaring me."

"Oh, I do. I really do," He hums, chuckling as he lifts an eyebrow. "I still can't believe I managed to scare you. _Again._ "

"You're such a bastard," She responds sharply.

"Bastard?" He repeats, his voice laced with amusement as he walks over to her, placing his hands on her waist and pulls her close. " _Hardly_."

"Oh, does that name not suit the Young Wolf?" Boudicca asks, raising her brows as she places her arms around his shoulders. "I have another name for you. A much more important name."

"Is that so?" Robb challenges playfully, pressing his forehead against her own. "What other name will I be hailed as?"

" _Father,"_ Boudicca murmurs.

This causes Robb to stiffen in her hold. He had frozen at her admission, his face going blank from shock as his mouth falls open. _Was that what I looked like?_ Boudicca asked herself, taking in his expression. She did not cower away from him like most might do but instead she held eye contact with him, she remained staring into his Tully blue eyes. Robb pushed her back slightly, his grip still on her waist as he looked upon her fully with soft furrowed brows.

"A...A father?" Robb asked quietly, his voice filled with a boyish innocence that made her smile softly. He cupped her face, searching her face frantically for the truth. His eyes moved vigorously, inspecting every feature of her face, from her scars to her nose to her eyes. When his wide blue eyes met her green, she could see the shock and joy in them, the emotions glazing his blue eyes over. His eyes were lit with happiness, a happiness that she felt proud to be a cause of him. "A father?"

"That is usually what you call a man who has a child," Boudicca pointed out, giving him a breathless chuckle.

His lips twitched upwards as she gave him a soft smile, softer than she had ever given him. She grabbed hi hands, taking them away from her face and trailed them slowly down her body until his hands had reached her belly and she let them rest on her belly. Robb was staring intently at where she had placed his hands and after a moment of stunned silence and staring, his eyes flickered back up to her own with a large smile that was so bright that it could outmatch any light.

 _I do not know what I have done to deserve such a smile, such a smile,_ Boudicca thinks to herself. _And a child. I am a monster. I am a kinslayer. Yet, why have I been gifted with such beauty?_ Robb's smile widened to the point she wondered if he was going to break his jaw. He abruptly grabbed her face and gave her a fierce, rough, passionate filled kiss. The kiss was filled with such hope and excitement. He pulled and rubbed his nose against her own before eventually letting his forehead rest against her own. Robb started to laugh lightly, his laugh sounded like a child as he kept his lips pressed softly on her own, laughing breathlessly as he kissed her.

"A little pup to call our own," Robb said, laughing with pure happiness.

It if was possible, Boudicca was certain with that single statement and laugh, she fell deeper in love with him than she already was. Robb kept his smile on his face before he let his hands fall from her belly and wrapped themselves around her, engulfing her in a warm embrace as he laughed and kissed her at the same time. Boudicca felt a wetness against her cheeks and at first, she thought it was tears escaping her own eyes but she saw with widened eyes that it was Robb that let small tears slide down his face. She pulled away from him and cupped his bearded face, pressing kisses to his cheeks to rid him of his tears.

" _Our pup,_ " Boudicca confirmed with a nod of her head as she closed her eyes once more when he pulled her into a kiss.

* * *

A cold morning had arrived after her long, eventful night and she could not help but keep the smile present on her face. She was strolling through the bustling markets of a nearby village with her younger brother and sister. Ser Davos was trailing behind them slightly, carrying the small, simple purchases that her brother and sister had made. It was mainly things that reminded them of their home in King's Landing, her sister bought pink flowers while her brother had bought sea shells of various colours and they all had glistened from under the dull sun of the grey sky.

Boudicca felt guilty for having him carry it and had offered to help a few times but he insisted that a Queen, especially a pregnant one, should not be carrying such things. She almost scoffed at the sight of two soldiers that were behind her, with their hands constantly at their swords as they intently took in their surroundings, waiting for any danger. _I need to know you are safe,_ Robb had said to her and his words still made her eye involuntary twitch.

"What do you intend to call the child?" Ser Davos questioned, walking alongside her.

"I have many names," Boudicca said, searching through materials in a stall and held up a white silk to inspect it. "Robb and I have yet to fight over the names, we came to an agreement in the end. If our child is a boy, I name them and if our child is a girl, he will name her. I can tell that our first child will be a boy but his mind is set on our child being a girl. Robb already is beginning his list of names on what to call our child. His heart is set on the names Lyarra and Cassana, in honour of our grandmothers but he is undecided on which name to choose. Yet I have already decided..."

"If it is a boy, what will you name them?" Her sister inquired.

"Ned," She informed them, with a hint of a smile. "You will be the aunt of little Ned Stark."

"Those are beautiful names," Myrcella marvelled as they came to a fruit stall.

"Aye, they are honourable names," Ser Davos stated sincerely as she picked up a handful of grapes and inhaled the mouthwatering scent.

"Ser Davos?" Tommen asked sweetly, causing her lips to lift up into a smile.

"Yes, Tommen?" He asked, approaching her brother.

"Can we go look at the kittens?" Her brother asked eagerly, pointing towards a stall. Her eyes flickered to a large stall with various exotic animals. "One of them looks like Ser Pounce!"

"If the Queen wishes," The Onion Knight replied, causing her brother to turn and face her with pleading eyes.

"Off you go," Boudicca encourages, nodding towards the stall. "Myrcella and I will go look at the jewellery. Won't we, Cella?"

"Thank you, Icca!" Tommen cheered before he raced off towards the stall as a laugh escaped her throat.

"Go," Boudicca urges, looking to the soldiers then to Ser Davos. "Myrcella and I will be fine."

"What of you?" Ser Davos demands with a heavy frown on his face. "It would not be right to leave you unprotected."

"I am _alright,_ " She presses on, giving him a small smirk. "I hope you don't let him buy the entire stall, Ser Davos."

"I will try my best," Ser Davos says, giving her a nod though she could see his eyes smile before he makes his way with the soldiers to her brother.

Boudicca and Myrcella continued around the market, purchasing various things as they went including a bracelet that held the head of a lion along with dangling rubies which brought a smile to the face of her sister when she was gifted with it. They eventually made their way down the steps, nearing the end of the market and towards the small port that only held rowboats and small fishing boats. She inhaled deeply before her eyes caught sight of moving shadows, every so often she caught glimpses of a little boy around her brother's age tossing a stick in the air and catching it. Her eyes meet his own and he runs off. The boy had been following them since they had reached the village, hiding and reappearing every so often. The boy always grins at her before running off, never too far or too close in her sight.

"Will we ever see mother again? I miss her so," Myrcella said wistfully, fondling her new bracelet.

"I am sure we will. _Someday,_ " Boudicca sighed, looking to the ground. "I have something to tell you, Myrcella. I have done a lot of things...evil things. I should have told you long ago, you and Tommen. Life is not as simple as I like to make it for both you and our brother. A lot of things that I have done, that our mother, that our family has done, many of those things will not be overlooked in the eyes of both the Gods and the world. I cannot close my eyes and make the bad things that I have done go away. Nor can I make the bad things others have done go away either. I need to tell you the truth..."

"I have always known," Myrcella admits softly, causing her to stiffen when her sister takes her hand in her own and she sees nothing but wisdom beyond her green eyed sister's years. "I know about mother. I know the truth. I know that you are my half sister...it is strange...somehow, someway I always knew it. I always knew deep down. I know that you are my half sister but I don't care, I don't care what anyone else thinks, what the Gods think or what the world thinks. I don't care what you have done," Her sister continues, looking up at her with the sweetest of smiles. "I am lucky to have you. I'm glad that you are my sister."

Boudicca's mouth falls agape from shock but she stills as they finally come face to face with the boy in the strange clothing, the boy looked like he belonged to Flea Bottom instead of the Riverlands and that is when she knew something was not right. The impish boy tosses the stick to Myrcella, who smiles at him and bends down to pick it up but as she makes a move towards her sister, a cold and dangerous metal meets her throat, the dagger glinting dangerously underneath the light. She stills, as someone breathes in her ear, their breath was foul and they smelt as if they had not bathed in days. The boy gifts them a maliciously pleased grin before disappearing. Her sister took notice of his smile and spins sharply on her heel, her eyes widened and she opens her mouth to scream as she sees whoever is holding the dagger.

"I wouldn't scream if I were you, girl," The man murmurs, his breath hot against her ear as he presses the dagger harder into her throat for emphasis. "Or she dies."

"It's alright, Myrcella," Boudicca swallows, though her words gave neither her nor her sister any form of comfort. "Stay still."

"You know...King Joffrey's paid lots of people pretty pennies for your head-" The man sneers, licking her ear causing her to withdraw into herself in disgust. "I intend to get the gold first."

Boudicca quickly reaches up and grasps the man's dirty hands, struggling and fighting against both him and the dagger before her teeth find themselves latching onto his skin. She was not thinking of her life, she was thinking of the life of her child that was growing in her belly and the lives of her siblings. And Robb's. Boudicca bit down hard, hard enough to become once again familiar was the metallic tang of blood. The man lets out a scream before she was harshly shoved to the ground by the same man. Boudicca falls, placing her hands and elbows down in front of her and lands with a heavy groan but she manages to protect her stomach.

"Boudicca!" Myrcella cries out, rushing to her side.

Boudicca grasps onto her sister, getting to her feet quickly and pushes her sister behind her to protect her from whatever may happen. She looks on at the man, only to discover a cloaked figure had shoved him away from her. _Another assassin?_ Boudicca's eyes widen when the cloaked figure takes out his own dagger from his belt and places it into the back of the man's knee, preventing him from escape. The assassin groans in pain, unsure of if he should clutch his bleeding hand or knee. She feels eyes on her causing her to whip around and looks over her shoulder at the boy to see him leering at them before he disappears into the gathering mist.

"He mentioned Joffrey!" Myrcella panics, trembling as she clings to her side and lets out breathless sobs.

"We owe you our lives, Ser," Boudicca states immediately, looking to the approaching hooded figure with apprehension.

"It is an honour to see you again, Boudicca," The figure says, causing her to stiffen at the familiar voice as the man takes off his hood.

"Ser...Ser Barristan," She breaths, her eyes widening significantly. " _Barristan Selmy."_

"I have been searching for you since your escape, Boudicca Baratheon. I want to ask for your forgiveness. I had once sworn an oath to protect you and I failed," Ser Barristan tells her solemnly while he drops to one knee but her objections to him doing so went unheard as he continues to stares up at her and unsheathes his sword, placing it on his knee. "Allow me to serve and join your Queen's Guard and I will not fail you nor your family again. My sword is yours. My life is yours."

* * *

Author's Note: Hey, I hope you like this double update. I would like to give a massive thank you to everyone who has reviewed, who has taken the time to read this story and to everyone who has made this story their favourite or followed it! If you have any questions, regarding a chapter or Boudicca, feel free to ask. The next update should be up soon.

Reviews-

WolfWarrior225: Don't worry, Boudicca won't be sleeping around. I meant in a way that Robert lost his Stark and so will she. He fought to get the Stark he loved back and she will fight to avenge the Stark she loved. As for drinking, she always has been a drinker but that will sort of simmer down for the sake of her child.

RHatch89: Thank you! I hope you like chapter's 23 and 24.

ZabuzasGirl: Thank you, I hope you like this double update! I can't really mention much about the Red Wedding but some things will be changed.

celticank: Thank you! A few things will change canonically but I won't mention what just yet.

day2467: Thank you, I'm glad you like the way I portray Boudicca and I hope you liked these scenes with Robb and Boudicca, I always love writing them! All will be revealed about Boudicca and Tywin soon and I can say that you are close to what he told and showed her when she was a child. You have definitely hit it on the nail with an assassin that Joffrey sends because while I don't mention him much in Boudicca's pov, I wanted to add to his character even more. There will be scenes in King's Landing in the next chapter. The prophecy will be starting to come soon very soon!

birdy: Hopefully you like this double update!

sassygirl9811: Boudicca has put Roose in his place once and she will do it again in the near future!

jean d'arc: Thank you, I hope you like chapter 23 and 24. A lot of things are going on which will be mentioned very soon!


	25. Chapter Twenty Four

_Riverrun_

Boudicca Baratheon

The entirety of Riverrun had erupted into chaos after the attempted assassination. The word had spread that an assassin was hired to try and kill her, they now had him wounded and in their custody, thanks to Ser Barristan. Boudicca's eyes remained on the assassin as the dim candlelight and torches had lit up his petrified face and she couldn't help but feel satisfaction. It was now nightfall since the incident and she grew more paranoid, though no one dared ask her why she kept her siblings close and her lion at her feet, with her hands possessively clutching her belly as she eyed everyone in suspicion. Ser Davos told her that they had interrogated him and when the man finally broke, the news chilled her to the bone.

"Why would this man want to kill me?" Boudicca demanded. "Who is he?"

"You may not take this news lightly-" Ser Davos informed her. "The assassin is known as the Dancer of Silence. He is apparently renowned for his skill with blades. It appears he works with his son but his son is yet to be found...I doubt his son will stay here after his father's capture. The boy would be a fool to do so. The man claims that he was hired by King Joffrey on the behalf of Petyr Baelish. He was not hired to kill you...it was Myrcella and Tommen he truly was after. The Dancer said he was hired on behalf of Lord Baelish."

"He was after my siblings..." Boudicca repeats, her voice echoing his words as she stares wildly at the man and seethes. "My siblings."

"I know Joffrey and I know the Lannister's. I know he will do anything to get to you. That assassin will be the first of many attempts on your life and the lives of your siblings, my Queen," Ser Barristan answered, turning to face her and stares at her intently. "I doubt he will ever give in or give up. He will never do that. Joffrey has a powerful Small Council. He has the Spider and Littlefinger by his side, he will have them send spies wherever you go. He will not stop until you, your siblings and your child are dead."

"Joffrey will not have my siblings or child," She swore fiercely. "I will burn the Seven Kingdoms to the ground before I let that happen."

"He will not have you either," Ser Davos responded, speaking familiar words as their eyes met and they both held a fierceness.

"Icca," Tommen began quietly, drawing her attention to the small boy in front of her. "What will happen to that man?"

"I do not know," Boudicca replied, clutching her brother and sister tighter to her side.

In truth, she did not know what she nor Robb would do to that bastard. Boudicca was furious and had to allow herself to be held back from him, in case she caused harm to herself or the babe. She let her jaw clench and her teeth grind together as everything in the hall fell eerily silent. The doors to the hall were swung open and Blackfish was first to enter the hall, holding a torch. He came to a stop in front of the man and his lips pursed into a snarl before he spat at his feet before moving on with Lady Catelyn following shortly after him. Various Lords and Ladies filled the vast space of the hall, some were holding torches while others held swords.

All she could hear was the fierce fire burning and her own soft breath, her breath hitched when the last person entered the great hall of Riverrun. _Robb._ His face looked as if it were made of stone and his eyes were cold as ice itself. Behind Robb, Grey Wind stalked into the hall and approached the man tied to a post, growling and baring his teeth at the shaking man. Boudicca looked on with uncertainty, giving Robb a gentle nod of her head, to assure him she was fine but he looked too angered to respond. Robb slowed the pace until he stood face to face with the assassin, looming over him like a shadow as he advanced on him like a wolf would do its prey. The assassin shakes even harder than he did before, his knees knocking together and he averts his eyes, unable to look anything or anyone but the ground in the eye. Her wolf continued to stare at the man in a seething silence before he turned and walked towards her within two or three strides.

" _Boudicca,_ " He murmured, cupping her face in his hands and kissed her fiercely but she pulled away from him with a gentle tug. "Are you hurt?"

"I've suffered worse," She remarked, shaking her head as her fingers trailed subconsciously to her belly. Robb let out a loud breath, resting his own hand against her stomach, rubbing her small barely noticeable bump with his thumb. He kissed the corner of her lip, though his eyes still held wariness, panic and _fear_. "We're fine, Robb. I promise."

"Are you alright, Myrcella?" Robb asked, looking down at her sister who nodded slowly before he moved on. "You saved her life. You saved my child's life-" He started, turning his attention towards Ser Barristan. He reached over and clasped a hand on the ageing man's shoulder. "Thank you. I owe you. I will give you anything that you wish, if it is within my power, I will give it to you."

Robb patted Ser Davos' shoulder firmly as a sign of gratitude before he stepped back to her, resting both of his hands on her stomach. She could not help but look on at him in hesitance, all she could see was darkness and a lust for war and vengeance in his blue eyes. "I also have a gift for my wife and child!" Robb proclaimed, taking a step back from her. "I will gift my wife the Iron Throne that her father once sat upon!" Boudicca stiffened, as all eyes turned to focus on both her and Robb. "And my son...we will gift him the world! We will kill them, every one of them. We will bow to no lions or any other beast that dares cross us!"

The great hall erupted into roars of approval for their King but she found herself unable to speak. All Boudicca could do was stare at him in shock, she has never heard him speak with such ferocity, with such blood thirst. Boudicca's heart clenched as she looked on in awe at Robb. In this hall, he was not the playful, loyal and loving man that she had grown to love with a burning passion. No, he was no longer a man...he was a _wolf._ A wolf of winter and he would help her bring a storm to the South. Boudicca placed her hands on her sibling's shoulders as Robb finished his speech, his voice was barely heard above the riled people, he glanced at her and she gave him an encouraging nod. _Do it_.

" _I swear by the Old Gods and the New. The South will know what winter truly is when we are done with them!_ " Robb roared.

Grey Wind prowled around the hall, snarling and snapping his jaws viciously. All that filled Boudicca's ears were the roars of the men and women alike. Her world was filled that night with shouts and cries of 'Stark', 'The Young Wolf' and 'The King in the North'. Her eyes widened, taken aback by the events that unfolded in front of her eyes. A large smile appeared on her face as a prideful feeling swelled within her chest. Grey Wind stalked towards her, throwing his large head back and howled loudly. Her lion began to roar out his own approvals and she briefly wondered if they could sense the thirst for blood and vengeance and the promise in the air like she could.

"Tomorrow we march for the Twins!" Robb announced, turning slightly on his feet to look at his men. "Eat hearty for it shall be a long night!"

Boudicca could not help but smile as the riled up people in the hall continued. It did not help when he strode over to her and placed his hands around her waist and hoisted her into the air, spinning her around slowly before setting her down next to the fire pit. _I won't let anything like this happen again,_ his eyes swore as he placed a glove bound hand on her cheek, gently stroking her face with his thumb. Boudicca reached up and firm placed her hand on the back of his neck, pulling him into a fierce kiss.

* * *

Robb Stark

The night had grown colder, so Robb decided to retire for the night and head for his shared chambers after he held a meeting with the war council. He entered the warm chambers, his eyes landing on the sleeping woman in the furs. He tore off his armour, his eyes never leaving her peaceful face. Robb's head was pounding and sweat was beading along his brows, making dampened curls stick to his face. Grey Wind shook himself, panting heavily as he approached the bed and jumped up onto the furs, taking his place beside Boudicca. Grey Wind's eyes looked mournful as he whined and howled low. _He knows something is wrong,_ Robb thinks to himself.

"Hush, Grey Wind," Robb ordered, his voice barely a whisper causing Grey Wind's ears to perk up and twitch as he listened. "You will wake her. Let her sleep."

Robb pulled his chest plate over his head and lay it gently on the rack, every moment he made, he did so with caution, careful not to wake his wife. His muscles were screaming in pain, his shoulders, back and legs aching and throbbing. His blue eyes flickered down to his tunic soaked with both sweat and blood and he pulled it over his head, gritting his teeth and grunting softly as he pulled his grey tunic off, letting it drop to the stone floor. He ran his fingers down the recent scar he gained on his shoulder and his lips quirked into a smile, as his eyes found his wife once more. _The scars match._

It has been at least two moon's since the last battle was fought, since the death of Renly Baratheon and since his wife's first war of many. And there has not been a battle since then, though he could see his wife was growing restless each passing day from the wait. Now, Robb was unsure if he would ever let Boudicca out of his sight again, he clenched his fists and eyes closed, sucking in a sharp breath as he thought on the assassin and how he screamed. His wild wife was almost killed along with his babe and that made him feel more wrathful than ever before. In fact, he could not recall the last time he felt such fury. It felt as if something had taken over him, especially when he confronted the man who had attacked and attempted to kill her.

Boudicca and Robb ended up in a fight after he refused to let her leave their chambers. Their arguments were nothing new, she would roar and scream at him and he would yell and shout back but their fights always ended the same way, with her pinning him to the ground and their lips pressed in a fierce and passionate kiss. He approached the bed, crawling across the furs, minding both Boudicca and Grey Wind before he lay down next to her, pulling her into his side. Robb leant back and let his eyes drift down to stare at Boudicca, thinking on their last spat. _We fight like cat and dog,_ he thought to himself and upon thinking that, he laughed at the irony.

"Stop staring," A hoarse and tired voice murmured, as green eyes met his own. "I can feel you staring, wolf."

"I'm not staring," He denied, a soft smirk appearing on his face as he looked down at the bleary woman. "I am merely admiring."

" _Admiring_?" Boudicca repeated, sitting up and let the furs fall down her body. "What were you laughing at?"

"That we fight like cat and dog. A lion and a wolf," Robb replied truthfully, chuckling at the face she pulled. "Come on, _Icca._ You know it is true."

"Aye, it is about as funny as a boil on the tip of my nose," His dark haired wife snorted before turning slowly so that she was now lying with her back to him as she huffed. He laughed louder, causing her to let out a laugh too but it was a sarcastic, forced one. He could tell that she irritated, though that only made his smile widen. Boudicca threw her head back and moaned mournfully thought it was a playful jest, "By the Gods! Why did I agree?"

"Gods, why did _I_ agree?" Robb mocked, causing her to turn back to face him with narrowed eyes. She sat up fully giving him a rough shove that rivalled Arya's, despite trying to keep her face in a frown, her lips uncontrollably twitched, forcing her to smile at him. He grinned at her, giving her a gentle nudge on the shoulder before he pulled a face; crossing his eyes, scrunching up his nose and smiled with his teeth bared that he could compare himself to Grey Wind then. "Us Stark's aren't really that interesting but at least I am pretty enough for a wolf, no?"

"Ha!" Boudicca laughed dryly and looked at him pointedly, her dark brow raised. "You call that a pretty face? I will show you what a true pretty face looks like!"

Robb tilted his head, watching with interest as she covered her face in her hands and once she pulled away, his mouth fell agape in shock. He had never seen a woman, much less a woman who was once a Princess and now a Queen, make a face like that. Her mouth was opened wide and her lips were pursed back, her chin was tucked into her neck and her eyes were crossed like his once were and were also rolled to the back of her head with furrowed brows and a scrunched nose. Boudicca was a sight to behold.

"Gods!" Robb proclaimed his face serious but he could tell that she heard the jesting tone. "You'd frighten an army with that face!"

"I don't care," Boudicca replied simply before her face relaxed and she rubbed her jaw.

They both kept their faces stoic and serious, not a word was shared between them as they kept up the act but their facade had broken down quickly as they tried to hold their laughter before they erupted into roars. Robb had to clutch his sore side as he laughed, watching her throw her head back and roared with laughter. He couldn't help but unfortunately compare her laughter to that of a pig, as he listened to snort and squeal with booming laughter.

"Y-You win!" He relented, holding his sides as tears welled up in his eyes. "Your laugh is awful!"

"A-Awful?" Boudicca gasped, chuckling as she came down, her breaths were laboured as she straddled his legs and reached over with her hands, wiping the tears away from her face. She smiled coyly, threading her fingers through his curls. "I thought I was attractive, Robb Stark."

"You are," Robb answered breathlessly as he cupped her cheeks, their gazing never breaking. "...Despite that laugh _and_ that face you can make, how can you even do that with your neck and chin? I know I certainly cannot. And now that you mention it...you can be quite hairy and sometimes you stink, _really_ badly-"

"Fuck off Stark," Boudicca huffed, slapping his arm with the back of her hand as he began to chortle.

"I was merely jesting," He hummed, taking in her features. "You are beautiful."

"You're beautiful too, Stark," She responded, causing him to chuckle. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer until their chests were touching and their foreheads were resting against each other. Boudicca stared at him with such a strange intensity that he had seen no woman other than his mother hold. She cupped his cheek with her hand and brushed her thumb against his cheek, her brows furrowing. "You're scared. Why?"

"You know why," Robb said, thinking on the assassin. _I have never been more terrified,_ he thinks to himself. "You were almost killed."

" _Almost_ being the choice of word," His wife retorted, clutching the back of his neck and brought him closer until her lips were on his own and his blue eyes held her gaze. "It will take more than an assassin to kill me, Robb Stark. You won't be getting rid of me anytime soon. Can the same be said for you, Robb?"

"I will not leave this word without you," He swore fiercely. "I made a promise to conquer the world with you, for our son. And we will, _together_."

"Forever-" Boudicca began.

"Always," Robb finished.

Boudicca leans forward, closing the distance between them and presses a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. His hands cup the sides of her face, his fingertips gently caressing her jawline. Her eyes were fiery as they flickered over him before her warm lips met his own and she pulled him into a kiss. He closed his eyes and dove further into the kiss he smiled against her lips before a question came to mind, causing him to hesitantly pull away from her embrace.

"Do you love me?" Robb inquired, cocking his head to the side.

"The moment I open my eyes in the morn, I see _you_." Boudicca began, placing her hands on his shoulders.

His wife was no mere woman, to him, when he listened to some of his men compare her to a _star._ He denied it, she was not a star, she was the whole entire night's sky. A stormy night's sky. Robb found his wild woman beautiful to look at, though that is not the reason he found her beautiful. He found her beautiful in the way she says things, in the way she is. He found her beautiful every time she inspired their people. He found her beautiful when the light of moon lit up her wildfire eyes. He found her _beautiful_ because she was _Boudicca_. She was his best friend, his lover, his wife, his Queen and now, the mother of their child.

Robb remembered the stories Old Nan used to tell him about the First Men, about how they became a husband and wife. The lovers during the times of the First Men believed a mere kiss would mate them for life, that it would unite their souls and bound them for all eternity. _Nan was right,_ Robb thought awe filled. All Sansa ever wanted was to hear that story when they were younger and that story stayed in his mind. It was said that to kiss another allowed them to share their souls with the other and that is how lovers came to be. _They couldn't be more right._

"You love me, don't you?" Robb inquired, cocking his head to the side.

"The moment I open my eyes in the morn, I see _you_ ," Boudicca told him, placing her hands on his shoulders. "And the moment I close them, I think of only _you_. The moment I am asleep, I dream of _you_. I have done and said many things in my life, loving _you_ is one of them. I do not deserve your love but you have given it to me anyway. You have made me strong. Your smile is worth more to me than any war."


	26. Chapter Twenty Five

_King's Landing_

Cersei Lannister

Cersei studied her father carefully and took in his expression with a wariness as Joffrey strolled into the Small Council chambers. As per usual, Lord Tywin Lannister kept his face cold and impassive. Her father's eyes were stone and his jaw was stiff, his hands clenched tightly as he sat rigidly in his seat. She knew that her father was angered and she knew it was to do with something involving her son. _Why?_ Cersei thought, before looking to her younger brother, Tyrion and saw that he was tense too. It appeared no one besides Joffrey was relaxed. They had planned carefully for two moon's worth their siege on Riverrun, they would soon enough have her daughters and son back in her hold along with Robb Stark dead. Her green eyes inspected Joffrey's face and she raised a brow at his giddy expression, knowing that nothing good ever came from it.

"Let's get on with it, grandfather," Joffrey leered, sitting at the head of the table, across from her father. "I have much better things to do!"

"Like torturing Boudicca's handmaidens?" Her father asked impassively.

"It will torment Boudicca," Joffrey said, his eyes wide with malicious glee. "The traitorous bitch will suffer!"

"You cannot torment her anymore," Tyrion seethed, slamming his goblet of wine onto the table. "You cannot hurt her."

"Oh, you are very wrong uncle! I can and I will!" Her son sneered, kicking his dirt ridden boots up onto the table and ungracefully leant back into his chair with a smug expression on his face. "I will get my spies to write of her cries when she has gifted the skins of her handmaidens after I have flayed them. And perhaps Tommen's stupid cats...they are always roaming around my castle, making noise and causing a smell. Maybe I shall send her their heads..."

"You will not do anything of the sort," Her father snapped, enforcing his order with a cold stare.

" _I am the King_!" Her son roared, taking to his feet and knocking over his chair in the process as he pointed to Tywin. "I can do as I please!"

"No. You do as _I_ please," Her father said coolly, his unflinching gaze settling on her son. "You will do as _I_ tell you."

"I do not have to listen to the likes of you, grandfather," Her son leered, causing her to stiffen at the dangerous game her son was playing.

"You will do as I tell you-" Tywin began slowly, sitting up straighter as he looked on at her son with venom present in his eyes but his face remained emotionless. "If you do not, I will rally my men and overthrow you. I will make you walk the streets of Flea Bottom. Or perhaps I will send you to Robb Stark? I want to see how long you will last. Will you last longer amongst the people you have scorned and starved? Or will you last longer with a vengeful Northerner?"

Cersei wanted to lunge at her father and order her father to stop threatening her son but she reluctantly held her tongue, knowing that they had more important matters at hand. She was more curious to know as to why they were holding a meeting and why she was brought to it without the rest of the Small Council present, after all, they had not held a meeting in two weeks worth and that was to discuss their attack on Riverrun. Cersei cocked her head slightly to the side and gave her son a sidelong glance to warn him not to cross her father. _He can bring him down as quickly as he raised him,_ Cersei thought with narrowed eyes.

"Now-" Her father said monotonously. "You will tell me what you spent six thousand gold dragons on."

"Oh!" Joffrey exclaimed, his grin sweetly sick as he took his seat once more. "You mean the little gift I sent to Boudicca? I thought it would be a fine wedding gift."

"You sent an assassin to kill her!" Tyrion grit, causing her head to snap towards him. _What?_

"You would be branded Kinslayer, is that what you so desire?" Tywin asked icily.

"No," Joffrey answered, rolling his eyes as he scoffed. "I sent him to torture her. If he had intentions to kill her then how is that my fault?"

"Myrcella was present!" Tyrion snapped, unable to hold back his anger. "Would you have had him kill her too?"

"I care not for that little wretch. Boudicca is a whore, she has spread her legs for the enemy-" Her son hissed, his green eyes furious as he dragged his hand through his blond hair in agitation before slamming his fists on the table, knocking over Tyrion's wine. "Boudicca kidnapped the Prince and Princess! She took my betrothed and hostages! And she willingly let that wolf fuck her and wed her!"

"Need I remind you, you left her no choice. It was either flee King's Landing or die," Tyrion retorted. "She'd sooner kill you than let you harm Myrcella and Tommen."

"Boudicca is the Queen of the North," Joffrey mocked. "My sister is not the wolf's bride, she is the wolf's slut-"

"Joffrey!" Cersei spat, rising angrily from her seat and before she knew it her hand had come in contact with his face. His head whipped around to the side quickly and he stilled, everything fell silent then. Her chest rose and fell heavily, as she tried to control her shaking body. Joffrey slowly turned to look at her in shock, though by the looks of it, Tyrion held shock too. Her father, however, looked on at the three of them with narrowed eyes. "How dare you send some...some peasant to kill my daughter!"

"A daughter who betrayed you who betrayed us. The assassin was not even able to do anything," Joffrey drawled. "I heard that the savage bitch ripped his hand open with her own teeth and let that lion of hers finish him off...if you _ever_ hit me again mother...it will not be the heads of the handmaidens or the cats that I send to Boudicca, it will be your head."

"Do not threaten me!" She hissed, her eyes growing fiery. "I-"

"I am going to make this simple so that your incompetent mind can understand," Tywin began, interrupting her causing her to reluctantly take a seat. "You will not attempt to send an assassin. No harm is to come to Boudicca, Myrcella nor Tommen. Is that understood? You will not make any attempt to harm them, I need Boudicca and Tommen alive for the plans I have made. If you make one more attempt, you will surely come to regret it. You will do as I say when I say."

"You want me to leave her alone?" Joffrey shouted, his face growing red with rage. "You have spent two moon's _here_ and you have done _nothing_! You want me to let her and her bastard husband think they can win?"

"Robb Stark will not win this war," Her father informed him, causing her to still at the calmness and assertiveness in his voice. "He lost the war the moment he bedded Boudicca."

"I want their heads," Her son whispered venomously.

"And you shall have _his_ head," Her father replied firmly. "However, you will not have my granddaughter's. Is that understood?"

"Boudicca is no longer a Baratheon nor is she a Lannister. Do you honestly think my sister will come quietly?" Her son inquired sharply, directing the question to her as he faced her fully, turning his attention her as his lips twisted into a smirk. "You and I both know that she is no longer one of us, mother. Boudicca is a wolf now. As are Myrcella and Tommen, perhaps they can be saved. My sister, on the other hand, cannot be. She is a traitor to the throne. She is a traitor to us. She took your children away from you. She took my siblings and betrothed away from me."

"You think I do not know of that?" Cersei bit. "You think I am not aware of that? Boudicca loves me. Boudicca loves Myrcella and Tommen."

"Boudicca also loves House Stark," Tyrion pointed out. "She has fallen for the Northerners, just like her father did. They both saw a beauty in the North."

"I think it is time for our King to retire to his bedchambers," Her father said, his voice containing a threatening edge as he addressed nearby servants.

"I am not tired!" Joffrey yelled, shrugging off a servant's hand harshly as he stood and stared at his grandfather. "Boudicca deserved it."

" _Leave,_ " Tywin commanded coldly.

Joffrey opened his mouth to speak but once she seen the look that her father gave him, his lips pressed into a firm line. He did not dare say anything else to her father, already having offended. Her son's face contorted and twisted into an unpleasant scowl before he straightened his composure and stalked off angrily, acting like a spoiled child getting sent to its room. Cersei let out a heavy sigh, thinking that the meeting had ended and rose to her feet but stilled when her father's gaze landed on her.

"No. I want you both to stay. I have a matter I wish to discuss without prying ears," Tywin said sharply.

Cersei eyed him in frustration, wanting to retire to her own chambers and sat back down in her seat. She turned her attention towards her little imp of a brother and saw that he was a changed man. It seemed every since he heard the news of what Joffrey had down to Boudicca, his eyes had darkened immensely and his eyes were solemn. Tyrion held this look ever since he found out Boudicca was flogged. His hatred for her son had also grown. _How did my daughter find it within her to respect and love the little beast?_ Cersei pondered, before turning her attention back to her father.

"What?" Cersei asked harshly but she heard glass shattering, causing her to look back to her brother who knocked a glass from the table, his eyes focused solely on their father.

"Your peace," Tyrion said. "Your plans. All of it gone. The war will not end anytime soon and it is all that foolish boy's fault."

"I have news other than the assassination attempt," Tywin continued, pouring himself a goblet of wine. He filled his goblet to the brim and then set the pitcher down, her brother, of course, reached for it but their father had pushed it further away so that her imp of a brother was unable to reach for it. Tyrion sank back into his chair and stared intensely at their father, his eyes held a look of warning. "It is not news that I can take lightly. I received word last night."

"News. If it is news about my children I want to know," Cersei demanded, lately, no news she has been receiving was good. It was all vague. Her father and brother kept silent, causing her to grow even angrier than she was. Her nostrils flared and her green eyes became ablaze, she slammed her hands against the table and rose to her feet. "If it is about my children, tell me!"

"Boudicca is carrying Robb Stark's child," Tyrion informed her.

Cersei stilled at the news, the news did not devastate her like she thought it would. If she were honest, she had been anticipating this ever since her daughter's union to the barbaric wolf, she knew it would have had to happen eventually. It always happens after a man and woman are wed. Cersei wanted someone far better and deserving of her daughter, she wanted better for all of her children. She had fought tooth and nail with the fat oaf she once called a husband about her daughter's hand since she began to bleed. The bruises she gained to her face were worth it. _Greyjoy. Frey. Tyrell. Martell. Stark,_ Cersei remarked to herself, causing a scoff to escape her lips.

"A grandchild," Cersei murmured. _You can love no one but your children._

"Boudicca will not have the child," Tywin stated, sipping his wine before he set it down and at this, she frowned in confusion as did her brother.

"How so? Boudicca is pregnant. When women are pregnant they tend to have a child. That's the whole point," Tyrion sarcastically stated.

"Robb Stark will die," Her father says, picking up his wine goblet once more. "And I do not plan on letting the child live to avenge its father."

"And if it is a girl?" Cersei pressed. "The child would not be dangerous then."

"You do not know your own daughter, do you?" Her father inquired rhetorically, narrowing his eyes at her. "Daenerys Targaryen, she has three dragons and is a _girl._ Boudicca has united the Stormlands, the North and the Riverlands against us. If we did not keep the Crownlands in check, they would have joined her. She has led, fought and won a war." Cersei could not believe the words that were coming from her father's mouth as she heard him speak of women being equally as dangerous as men. "You and I both know that women are no weak creatures, many forget that."

"Boudicca will be vengeful," Tyrion piped up quietly, his face filled with horror. "The babe is hers. You cannot simply-"

"She will get over it," Tywin snapped, waving his hand dismissively causing her face to grow blank. "As will you."

"How do you plan to kill it?" Cersei demanded, eyeing him hatefully.

"I know of a man who hates the Stark's as much as I," Her father said, a hint of a smirk on his face as he raised his goblet to his lips.

"House Frey," Her brother concluded. "They are travelling to the Twins."

"Yes," Tywin confirmed. "They will be arriving at the Twins by the morrow."

"You will not hurt my daughter!" Cersei seethed, rising from her seat and her hand twitched, she was tempted to slap the goblet from his hand. "Tommen and Myrcella are currently with her, what if they get caught in the crossfire along with Boudicca? What if I lose them?"

"They will not be harmed," Her father swore. "I promise."

Cersei stared at him, unconvinced at him. Her father's promises were empty, just like any other man's. She wanted nothing more than for hr daughters and son to be returned and reunited with her. She was their mother and they belonged to her. They were meant to be with her. Cersei began to worry immensely for what her father had planned for House Frey to do. Robb Stark would die, that was for certain but she feared more than anything that her children would too.

"No!" Her brother snapped coldly as he stood from his and walked towards the door, before casting a glance at them. "I will not be part of this."

"If word gets out about this-" Her father threatened, eyeing her brother. "I will have your head."

" _Then have it,_ " Tyrion snapped while he briskly left the chambers.

* * *

 _Riverrun_

Catelyn Stark

Catelyn looked on fondly as she saw her son and good daughter laugh loudly. She looked down below and saw them in the courtyard of Riverrun, it gave her a feeling she had not felt in a long time. A wholesome feeling. Her daughter, Sansa along with Lady Jeyne, Beth and Myrcella were sitting at a nearby tree, eating lemon cakes and chatting fondly amongst themselves as Tommen played with both the lion and the direwolf. It felt as if she were back at Winterfell when everything was good. Catelyn looked to the right of her and that is when her smile faded, she had almost expected Ned to be standing beside her but he was not. Her face was only met with a wall.

Her attention was drawn back to her eldest son and good daughter, Boudicca as he made an attempt to kiss her but she ran away, holding on to the small swell of her stomach. _If Arya were alive, would she take after Boudicca?_ Catelyn thought as she stared at the woman who reminded her so much of her youngest daughter, watching as Robb was pushed away by the dark haired woman but he managed to wrap his arms around her waist and pull her into his chest. Her son proceeded to pepper kisses all over her face, despite her protests as she squirmed in his hold while she still continued to laugh.

"Is young love not the deadliest of poisons?" The voice of Roose Bolton said, causing her to look over her shoulder at him as he approached and she tried to suppress a shiver.

Catelyn hated the Lord of Dreadfort. The House of Bolton's long line and history of torture and ruthless betrayals made her wary and every time she looked at him, her stomach and chest clenched tightly from fear. It was not until Boudicca told Catelyn of her confrontation with Roose Bolton that Catelyn truly began to loathe the man. She not only hated the man, she despised him and for the fact he had taken to stand beside her, the side where Ned always stood. Though, since she was born and bred a Lady, she acted and played her part well even though she did not want to when it came to that horrible man.

"They are well matched," Catelyn replied softly, looking back to Robb and Boudicca with a fondness and tried to forget the fact that she was talking to Roose Bolton. "In both temperament and height."

"Well matched?" Lord Roose challenged, raising a brow. "How so? Do tell, Lady Stark."

"Robb makes her happy and in turn, Boudicca makes him happy. My son's happiness is all I desire. It is what I desire for all of my children. It has not been easy for either of them, both losing their fathers and getting thrust into a war that they did not want," She pointed out, trying to keep the sharpness out of her tone and kept her demeanour calm and collected. "They are made for each other. Boudicca is the one thing that Robb is still sure of, the one thing that will never change in his life. And in turn, Robb is the same for her."

"I am quite certain that her family will not feel the same way, my Lady," Roose Bolton responded, causing her own brows to furrow at his words. "After all, I'd imagine they would do and say just about anything to get her back. Boudicca is Cersei Lannister's first born child and daughter and let us not forget Myrcella and Tommen, Cersei's younger children. You and Cersei are more alike than you think, you are both mothers and would do anything for your children. You would die for them."

"Yes, I am sure they want her back. After all, having her flogged in front of King's Landing and attempting to kill her various times shows _so_ much affection," She bit sarcastically, an edge in her voice although she was sure it was not noticeable. Both Boudicca, Sansa and Myrcella had told her the stories of Joffrey and his atrocities. The young Myrcella had told her what he intended to do with Boudicca, Catelyn had never heard the blonde haired girl speak such vicious words. It was unexpected of the gentle and sweet girl that it made her shock. _The boy will pay for his crimes,_ Catelyn thought.

"True," He said, nodding in agreement. "Though Cersei Lannister will do anything to get her children back. _Anything._ As will Tywin Lannister. It matters not if Boudicca let your son between her legs or impregnated her. The Lannister's will want her back along with her younger siblings. They will even want the lion she keeps as a pet to the clothes she wears, they want everything back."

"The Lannister's will not get her nor her siblings back," Catelyn vowed, her tone icy. "Boudicca _Stark_ is married to Robb Stark in the light of the Seven _and_ in the eyes of the Old Gods. Boudicca is the true heir to the Iron Throne. Myrcella and Tommen are sweet and innocent children but they are bastards, bastards of the Lannister twins along with Joffrey. Boudicca is also Queen of the North and Stormlands and the mother to my son's child, his _heir._ "

"It should bother you, your son no longer seeks your advice but instead, seeks her advice. Boudicca Baratheon is a ruthless woman, a Kinslayer. Do you forget who her parents her? Have you forgotten her heritage? _Baratheon_ and _Lannister_ blood runs through her veins. If you had seen her fight that day...you would be wary of her, I can assure you. And let us not forget she is the sister of the boy who ordered your husband's head to be placed on a pike. It must pain you, she shares the same eyes of your husband's killer."

"Boudicca is Robb's wife, you would do best to remember that. He has every right to seek her advice, that is what a marriage is, my Lord. Your marriages have never lasted long, therefore, you cannot speak to me of it. And she is also my good daughter by the laws of Gods and men, so mind your tongue or I will mind it for you," Lady Catelyn warned, her blue eyes narrowing.

"Forgive me, my Lady," Roose said. "I was merely speaking my mind, nothing but the truth passes from my lips."

"If I wanted the truth, my Lord, I would have asked for it," Catelyn replied, her voice calm and cool.

"Of course, my Lady," The Lord of Dreadfort bowed, a sadistic grin present on his pale and sickly face as he continued down the hall.

Catelyn swore she could see a malicious glint in his eyes of steel, she could have sworn he knew something that she nor anyone else did. It brought a shiver to her and from that moment on she made a promise to herself to keep an eye on Roose Bolton. _He cannot be trusted,_ Lady Catelyn thought to herself. She despised him even more so now, with the way he spoke of her son and the way he spoke of her good daughter. She did not like how much he mentioned the Lannister's, she did not like it at all.

"Are you alright, my Lady?" A gruff but kind voice sounded.

A startled sound escaped from her lips and she spun around sharply on her heel only to come face to face with Ser Davos. The man was kindly and treated everyone was nothing but respect except he respected no one more than he did Boudicca. The man had a strange relationship with the green eyed woman and her son did not like it, he told her himself shortly after he had wedded Boudicca. Of course, it would be understandable that the man felt protective towards Boudicca, they have spent a lot of time together and he had saved her life but the way he stared at her...everyone had seen it, everyone except Boudicca. Ser Davos Seaworth stared at Boudicca as if she was some kind of God.

"Yes, I am fine, ser," Catelyn said, her voice wavering. He looked on at her with suspicion before making his way down the hall.

 _No, I am not alright,_ Catelyn thought, her shaking hand came into contact with the wall. _I do not trust that man, not one bit. Whatever he is planning, cannot be good. His eyes swore of darker days to come._

* * *

Author's Note: Hi! I hope you like these updates. I would like to give massive thanks to everyone who has reviewed this story, who have taken the time to read this story and to everyone who has made this story their favourite or have followed it! If you have any questions, feel free to ask and the next update should be up soon! A word of warning for the next couple of chapters, it will start to get quite gruesome.

Reviews-

ZabuzasGirl: Thank you, I'm glad you like the double updates! I hope you like Chapter 25 and 26

sankhadeep dutta: Yes, Jon will play a major role in later chapters!

celticank: Thank you, I hope you like these chapters! To be honest, when I was writing I was thinking along the lines of, what can I do that would unsettle them because no matter how much they think they are safe, they never can be.

RHatch89: Thank you!

Saint River: Unfortunately for Boudicca and Robb, they won't have such dreams and I wanted to add that (this is going to sound heartless) to make it more heartbreaking for what is to come because all Boudicca really wants, as a character is two things, to have safety and freedom along with her family but she will never be able to achieve those things without bloodshed and that is something which will cause some confliction. After the events that will happen, this will push her over the edge as nothing will hold her back now. Boudicca has proven herself to him and I hope this shows with his conversation with Lady Catelyn. King's Landing has been plotting to lay a surprise siege to Riverrun while everything is at peace in Riverrun but that plan was halted when Joffrey sent an assassin and that they received word that Boudicca was pregnant which has led them to make other plans. The dreaded wedding is finally happening and I can say that both Tywin, Walder and Roose had a hand in the Red Wedding.

MzBellezza: Thank you, I'm glad you think so! Although his death is unable to be prevented, there will be appearances of him cropping up every so often.

Lawsy89: Thank you!


	27. Chapter Twenty Six

_The Twins_

Boudicca Baratheon

Boudicca set her horse into a steady trot, she was two almost three moons into her pregnancy but that would not deter her. Robb had suggested she ride in the carriage with her siblings, his mother and sister but she scoffed at it. _I may be with child,_ Boudicca thought to herself. _But I am still as capable and fierce as I once was._ The entirety of the journey was unsettling as she rode beside Ser Davos and Ser Barristan. She had named them her Queen's Guard. Boudicca did not do it out of doubt she couldn't protect herself nor her family but she did it for her babe, she had her child and heir to think of now. Suddenly, her lion leapt in front of her horse startling it slightly as Grey Wind turned to snarl at Orion in a warning. It was rather strange since she found out she was with child, Grey Wind had become protective and almost possessive over her. He had even growled at Robb for trying to touch her while she was resting. Boudicca could feel the tension from them as their hackles were raised and they stared at each other with a feral gleam in their eye. She knew it was always wise to trust instinct and what better instinctual sense would she gain from than Orion and Grey Wind. They too could feel that something was off.

The company rode up to the gates of the Twins as several Frey guards and soldiers approached them to greet them. Ser Davos was the first to dismount from his horse and he approached her dutifully with his hand held out to her, she thanked him and gripped his shoulder and carefully dismounted from her own horse, mindful of her swelling belly that seemed to grow larger each passing day. It made her wonder how big her babe was going to be by the small and barely noticeable swell of her stomach.

"Be careful," Ser Davos warned quietly, eyeing the soldiers. "Something isn't sitting right with me, my Queen."

"Nor I," Boudicca replied stiffly. "I want you to keep your guard up. I want you to guard my sister and brother."

"You don't even have to command that," He informed her, causing her hardened face to soften "I would protect you with my life like I was sworn to."

Boudicca nodded as her green eyes landed on Robb, who was standing and waiting for her by the doors of the Twins, a look of concern and fear was present on his face but it seemed the moment his eyes landed on the hand she had resting on her stomach as it churned uncomfortably, his face softened and he seemed to forget about everything. Her heart was beating hard as he looked on at her with love in his eyes but even the burning love he held in his eyes for her did little to ease the tension and discomfort she felt. It did not ease the paranoia. Boudicca approached him slowly, standing firmly at his side and gripped his wrist.

"Forever and always," Robb murmured, tucking a stray dark curl behind her just as the doors to the Twins opened with a loud and heavy moan.

"Always and forever," Boudicca swore.

Boudicca regained her impassive and blank composure as she made her way into the dull hall, that held little to no light. She felt almost _empowered_ like she had the day of her first battle and when she had gathered the banners of the Storm Lords. Boudicca was Queen with a King at her side, an impressive company consisting of fierce men and women alike along with a lion and direwolf prowling at their feet. _I am a bringer of storms,_ Boudicca tells herself proudly and holds herself higher than she ever has. _I represent the very fury my house was known for._

However, upon entering the Twins it felt as if her soul was gradually being sucked out of her body. It was certainly a place like no other. It was not like the Red Keep; vibrant, warm and buzzing with life nor was it like Winterfell; calming, mysterious and cold. It certainly was not like the peaceful and elegant Riverrun. No, the Twins was a dark and dreary place with a feeling of impending doom that weighed down on her and she felt that the Twins befitted those of House Frey. The Twins fit them like her chain mail does her body. Boudicca did not understand how it would come to feel like home to someone, as even though she was only at Winterfell briefly it had felt like home the moment she looked upon the beauty of the North. Here, it was lifeless.

Boudicca took in her surroundings with caution and took note of the many men and women, most if not all Walder Frey's child and grandchildren, possibly great grandchildren staring at them. They were all watching them with judgemental, leering eyes and she could not help but feel her hackles rise like Orion's did. She rolled her shoulders, trying to rid herself of whatever tension she felt and looked briefly back to look at her sister and brother, who were standing in front of Lady Catelyn, who had a hand on each of their shoulders. It also helped that Sansa, Jeyne and Beth were hidden behind Eva. Her eyes met with Ser Davos and Ser Barristan who lingered slightly behind her and gave them a curt nod before turning back to face Walder Frey. Boudicca had to hide the disdain she felt when she looked on at the piss take of a man.

Walder Frey was an ugly man, both inside and out, she could not pick one quality of him that she liked thought it was his eyes that unsettled her the most and she was rarely unsettled. Lady Catelyn commented that the reason she felt this way was because the steps to becoming a mother makes you fiercer and more paranoid in order to protect your children. Boudicca could not deny it, she truly could not feel safe, no matter where she was or who she was with. She had grown closer to Lady Catelyn since the news of her pregnancy and was not afraid to ask the woman questions, after all, Lady Catelyn was a mother of five children.

A servant approached Robb and handed him a large clay bowl of salt with a small plate of bread. He placed a piece of salted bread in his mouth and she struggled to watch him eat it along with everyone else as it was passed around. The mere thought of the salt and bread hitting her tongue made her throat burn and her stomach churn. The weak chinned and disgusting man was leaning forward in his chair to inspect her and she felt skin crawl. As the bowl was finally passed to her she declined it.

"I see-" Lord Frey began, his voice leering as the bowl was passed back to him. "You are not one for bread and salt, I take it?"

"I am not one for bread and salt, my Lord," Boudicca responded, her tone icy as the wind. "The tradition may be as ancient as the First Men but traditions and vows are as easy to make as they are to break. It is law not to kill blood of your blood, yet I did and my brother made an attempt to take my life on more than one occasion so forgive me for not being strict to this rite."

"Hm. _An interesting take,"_ Lord Walder hummed as he dipped the bread in the salt and leered at her, shoving the piece of bread into his face. "My honoured guests. I welcome you within my walls and at my table. I extend to you my hospitality and of course, protection under the light and eyes of the Gods. I consider it a great honour to have the Bringer of Storms in my halls, it _truly_ is a sight to behold on my ageing eyes."

His words were meaningless to her and his voice was laced with both heavy sarcasm and venom. Her brow arched as she looked on at him with her lips pursed but her face fell into a cold expression. Boudicca turned to face Robb, his face was filled with displeasure and his eyes screamed irritation but unlike herself, he was more welcoming and plastered a false smile on his face and took a step closer to her. His eyes were fixated on and she knew by his face, he was telling her not to do or say anything that would get her killed.

"I must say, Lord Frey, the tales of you do _not_ do you _justice_ ," Boudicca replied courteously, she could hear a snicker and scoff behind her and looked sharply over her shoulder at Lord Edmure, who was stifling a laugh and to Lord Brynden, who had scoffed at her words. "It is an honour in itself to be present in the halls of a house so deep and rich with history. You stand together as a strong house and I hope you will come to stand together with us in our fight against House Lannister. Your help has always been appreciated, my Lord Walder and I am truly sorry that I have not journeyed here sooner to thank you."

Lord Walder looked smug, lifting his goblet to his lips and drank slowly, it put her on edge as his eyes never left her own as he ever so slowly placed the goblet back down onto the table. He did not reply to her but instead, he looked towards Robb and craned his neck to get a better look and from then on, looked at her husband with pure hatred and looked at him as if he were mere vermin. Her temper flared as she dug her nails into the palms of her hand, trying to regain control of the fire that was burning inside of her.

"May we speak with your daughters and granddaughters?" Boudicca inquired, taking a step closer to Lord Frey. "Although I rode here to discuss various terms with you, I partly rode here to see them."

"Do not defend _him_ ," Lord Frey said, smiling mirthlessly and eyed her which caused Robb to stiffen at her side. "The likes of him don't deserve to be defended."

"My wife and I thank you for your hospitality and for welcoming our company into your halls with open arms, my Lord. I have come here to apologise-" Robb said but the words seemed to not matter to Lord Walder as he continued to stare at her, his eyes never leaving her own and she refused to back down or look away. They stared each other down, both unblinking and undeterred. Her fiery green eyes bore into his mud brown. "And to be forgiveness from them."

"It's about damned time, Your Grace. My girls were spurned, many tears have escaped their eyes. It put me in a _very_ difficult position," Lord Walder sneered, though she knew the real reason why they must have wept. She knew by the cruel look in Lord Walder's eyes that he had no doubt hurt them for the fact that none of them became Robb's wife. His slimy voice carried throughout the hall and made her inwardly sneer. "My girls. One of them was supposed to be _Queen of the North._ Now, _none_ of my girls are. The celebrations had soured once we found out the news of your marriage to _her._ "

Boudicca's eyes narrowed and she gave a sidelong glance to Robb. If he would not say anything, she certainly would and by the burning stare Lady Catelyn gave Walder Frey, she would as well. Robb opened his mouth but before he could say anything, Walder gestured dismissively with a hand and ten girls stepped forward. If he had been her father, she would have put a knife in his throat long ago and it made her grateful and thankful to the Gods that she was fated to have Robert Baratheon as a father instead of Walder Frey. The younger the girls got as she cast her eyes down the line and she felt angered when her eyes landed on the youngest of the girls, in particular, the youngest looked to be ages with Myrcella. Boudicca felt compelled to do so and placed a protective hand on her belly, staring at each girl intensely as Lord Walder introduced his daughters and granddaughters until he got to the youngest.

"This is my youngest daughter, Shirei," Lord Walder said before his eyes landed on her once more. "The girl holds a high admiration for you, you know? It has never soured."

"We can be as powerful as any man, Shirei," Boudicca said truthfully, recalling the words she had once spoken to her younger sister as the girl who kept her eyes downcast let them flicker up to her with a face that slowly reddened. Lord Walder Frey scoffed and rolled his eyes but she ignored them, focusing her attention on the red haired girl with a smile. "You will one day come to have a husband and I know that he will be lucky to have you, make him an equal, do not let him rule you like most try to."

"My Ladies," Robb began, his voice filled with regret and sincerity causing her attention to turn back to him. "All men should keep their _word_ , Kings must keep their world most of all. I made a vow to marry one of you and I broke that vow. Like my Queen said, any man would be very lucky to have any one of you. I did not do this to slight nor offend you in any way but it was simply because I was already betrothed at Winterfell to another and I was in love with her. I know these words cannot set nor right the wrong that I have done by breaking this promise, I have done wrong by you and your house. I can only hope that you can forgive me. I will do all I can to make amends so that House Stark of Winterfell and House Frey of the Crossing can be united once more in an alliance."

Boudicca's lips curled into a smile as she felt her chest swell with pride and hope for Robb. At first, she thought the backhanded comments would have thrown him off but Robb still managed to keep his temper and has so far, done better than she would have done had she been standing in the hall alone. It was silent for a few moments and then Walder Frey clasped his hands together, the single clap ringing throughout the hall and his daughters and granddaughters made their way back to their seats as the clapping continued. Her eyes caught Shirei's once more and she gave the girl a small smile as the girl made her way back up the steps with her family.

"I can see why you would want to marry her, Your Grace," Walder Frey mocked darkly, leaning forward in his chair and she inwardly grimaced as it creaked. "You see...I have a talent of sorts...I have this talent of seeing what goes on underneath a woman's clothing. It is a _strange_ sight to see...a woman not wearing a gown...nevertheless...what a sight it is. I think your body is better than your dear mother's, you look like you have a nice firm arse...I bet you are a tight fit-"

" _How dare-_ " Boudicca began, taking a step forward but Robb held her back.

"However, I respect it nonetheless," Lord Walder continued, a dark twisted gleam present in his eyes. "Any man would want to become King of Westeros, given the chance and especially with such a contender for the throne at their side. You would be higher and more powerful than all the rest. Had I been your age, I would have broken a thousand oaths and vows to become a King and to get into that without a _second_ thought. The blood of a lion and stag runs through your veins, I bet you must be wild within the sheets to make him forget all of his oaths."

 _I would have broken a thousand oaths and vows._ The words he spoke unsettled her greatly more so than his comments about her body as she stared on at the old man. _He is an ambitious man,_ Boudicca remarks to herself as she eyes him carefully. She knew ambitious men and what they were worth, her uncle Renly died because he was an ambitious man, determined to take the throne. Her father died because he was an ambitious man because he wanted to take down a boar and prove himself once more. The world was filled with ambitious men and what she knew from experience was that they can be capable of doing and saying _anything_ to get what they want.

Lord Walder Frey _was_ an _ambitious_ man.

* * *

Boudicca always loved a feast, it was in her blood to love a feast, but this feast...sitting at it never felt so unsettling. The atmosphere made her uncomfortable despite the merry drinkers and the laughter that rang out all around her. The music above her sang a dreadful plight. The drums were roaring for her to run and the harps were pleading with her gently to flee. Yet she remained sitting in this damned and wretched hall for the sake of Robb and Boudicca was sat next to Ser Barristan and sat close by was Lady Catelyn along with Sansa, Jeyne and Beth. Her husband had offered a dance to Dacey Mormont and was in the middle of the hall, dancing to the dreadful song. Her brother and sister were in their tent with Orion, Ser Davos and Eva which she was glad of, she did not want them to witness the drunken animals that some of these men and women had become.

Her eyes remained fixated on Walder Frey throughout the feast as they stared at each other with fire in their eyes. She knew that the lecherous man no doubt wanted one of his daughters to be _Queen of the North_ and not a _Lady of Riverrun._ It was not what he wanted. Boudicca could not help but keep a sneer on her face throughout the entirety of the feast as she recalled every snide remark Late Lord Walder had made and contemplated sentencing him to death for his wandering tongue. The conversation had gone further downhill during their meeting when he commented on the pup growing in her belly and she could not contain her fury then.

 _If you speak ill of us once more, I will have you run through from balls to head._

Robb had also let out a snarl at the mentioning of their child too and she reluctantly knew that they had fallen into his trap and he had them right where he wanted them. The argument had gotten heated between three of them that she did not care if Lord Walder's head was removed from his body but if she were honest...she would have preferred his manhood to be removed instead. After everything that happened, she was glad that her siblings were in the safety of their tent along with her fierce lion and Ser Davos to protect them. Boudicca felt as if there was something terribly _off_. It felt as if they were watching her, waiting for to make a move.

 _Far too many Frey shites,_ Boudicca thinks to herself. _The world is riddled with Frey's._

Robb's laughter drew her from her thoughts as she looked up and saw him parting from Lady Dacey and made his way towards her, taking to standing by the table, seeing the smile made her look on with a fondness that she had managed to muster up for his sake and his sake only. He looked relaxed compared to her rigidness. _How can he not feel the stares of hate and loathing?_ Boudicca asked herself, resting a hand on her stomach as she sat stiffly in her seat. _Or perhaps he is ignoring it?_

"You should smile," Robb informed her. "I always thought you were one for a feast?"

"Yes. A feast of a _trusted_ friend," Boudicca said, a frown firm on her face.

"It's my uncle Edmure's wedding," He replied. "You should enjoy it, Boudicca. It is a happy time."

"Oh yes, I so _enjoy_ having a staring contest with fucking Walder Frey," She drawled sarcastically. "It is the highlight of my night."

" _Ignore him,"_ Robb urged, taking her by the hand and pressed a kiss to her wrist. "For me?"

" _Could I kill him?"_ Boudicca murmured quietly, ignoring the disapproving looks she got from Robb. "That is always an option and I like to keep mine pretty open. If the Old Walder Frey had his own way, I would not be your wife. It would be dear Roslin Frey weeping over you instead. Poor lass. No woman should have to cry on the _supposed_ happiest day of their life. I think it is a load of shite your wedding day being your happiest day. I've had a lot of happier days with you before I was wed to you."

"Perhaps I have made a terrible mistake then," Robb jested, causing her eyes to narrow and she tore her hand out of his grip and averted her eyes, though she knew everything they were doing was playful but his words did not help but add to the never ending _fear_ she felt on this night. "Come on, Icca...you know I was only jesting, I did not mean it."

"Perhaps you have," She said. _Perhaps we have._ "I could have gone to Dragonstone to be with my uncle Stannis. I could have even fled to the Free Cities but I chose _you_."

"Do you-" He began, his blue eyes widening. "Do you regret it?"

" _Never,_ " Boudicca answered firmly, her eyes trailing back to two Frey soldiers speaking to Walder Frey and saw them pointing to various points above the pavilion. Her eyes held suspicion and wariness until her eyes met Lord Frey's once more. All the sound in the hall fell deaf to her ears as Lord Walder peered at her and his lips curled into a wicked smile. _A promise of darker days to come._ Her attention was drawn back to Robb who kissed her hand, her eyes met his kind blue. "When do we leave this damned place? I am sick of it, everywhere I look all I see is a Frey."

"We leave in the morning," Robb confirmed, confused eyes settling on her face. "Why? Are you sick? Is it the babe?"

"The sooner we leave, the bloody better. I hate this place," Boudicca snapped, causing his smile to falter.

"Are you going to complain throughout the _entire_ feast, my she wolf?" The Young Wolf laughed, yet her face remained stone.

"Yes."

"I will protect you from the likes of Walder Frey, do not worry, my love," He laughed, causing her to raise a brow. Even he seemed to be tipsy from the drink that was never ending but if he was not, he was in too good of a mood otherwise she knew he wouldn't throw those words around easily as that. Boudicca had taken note that he had consumed a lot of wine, in fact, many of her people in the hall had drunk a lot of wine...except the Frey's, their cups were empty and their mouths were dry. _I cannot relax, not especially around the likes of Walder Frey. I do not trust him._

"I do not need protecting from Walder Frey," Boudicca said, clenching her jaw and grinding her teeth together. "If he did anything to us, I'd run him and his family through for their betrayal."

"Of course, my Warrior Queen," Robb replied, leaning down and planted a kiss on her lips. "This will prove exactly what I think of their damned vow."

"I wanted to be with my brother and sister tonight," She informed him, patting his cheek. "You better make it up to me, my wolf or you will surely regret it."

"Do not worry," Robb said as he ran a hand through his unruly auburn hair before taking both her hands and covered them with his own, pressing a kiss to the tips of her fingers, his eyes never leaving her own. "I intend to. I will prove to you that I love you more than the stars you can count in the sky."

" _You better,"_ Boudicca hummed, a small smirk making its way onto her face but it was forced.

Her eyes kept flickering to Lady Catelyn and Lord Bolton who were conversing quietly in between sips of their wine and she swallowed harshly, trying to rid the lump from her throat and eyed them carefully. She could not understand why the likes of _Roose Bolton_ would be at a wedding feast, a wedding between a Tully and a Frey. He never attended the feasts they held at Riverrun, so she could not understand as to why he would start now. Boudicca raised a brow before the hall fell silent and still, her eyes looked towards Walder Frey and she saw him hold his hand up.

"My daughter has wed," Walder Frey proclaimed. "A wedding needs a bedding!"

Boudicca grimaced as cheers erupted throughout the hall and noted that Lady Roslin paled a considerable amount at the words and more tears fell from her eyes, their eyes met briefly and the girl sent her looks of both pity and panic, causing her brows to furrow. _All I see is panic, pity and pain in the girl's eyes._ Unlike Roslin, Edmure seemed too pleased with himself and she thought he shouldn't be so smug. A few hours ago he had complained throughout the entire ride to the Twins all because he was afraid that he would be stuck with a hideous bride. He first complained to Blackfish who simply called him a foolish boy and told him to fuck off and then he complained to Lady Catelyn, riding by the carriage on his horse until she had promptly put him in his place and then he finally complained to her until she threatened his balls. _Pathetic,_ Boudicca scoffed to herself and rolled her eyes.

"And what of our King? What say you?" Lord Walder inquired, peering at Robb.

Robb turned and faced the old Lord and allowed the bedding ceremony to commence. The cheers, chants and leering jeers grew louder after he had allowed it to take place. Boudicca saw a final pitying glance sent her way before Roslin was carried out of the hall by a sea of men, both young and old, holding her high in the air. She caught the frightened and tearful face of Roslin before the young girl was engulfed in the crowd of men. Though, as she looked to Edmure, he seemed satisfied as the women practically tore off his clothes as they tugged him out of the hall.

The horrible music picked up once more and with that, she abruptly stood up from her seat and made her way around to Robb, who was having his cup refilled. She took the time to look around the hall and a disturbing thought crossed her mind as she took in the drunken people. _Should the Lannister's somehow attack, we would be heavily outnumbered in the hall and even then our men are defenceless, having drunk themselves stupid._ Boudicca placed her hand on Robb's shoulder and took his goblet of wine away, placing it on the table and looked to the men playing their instruments above and she stilled when she noticed the man that played the harp. _I could have sworn I have seen him before...but how? And where?_

"Our son will be here in a few moons," Boudicca says, trying to focus on something else and let his hand rest on her belly. "It will be six or so moons and then he will be arriving into this world kicking and screaming."

"You mean _our_ daughter," Robb retorted, causing her brows to raise.

"No. I know my own body and I know the pup will be a boy," She stated. "He will be a fierce wolf with dark locks and blue eyes."

"No, _she_ will be a gentle wolf with auburn hair and green eyes," He argued softly, causing a smile to appear on her face.

Her smile fell when she looked over his shoulder and saw two soldiers shutting the doors of the hall. _Why?_ She could hear that Robb was talking to her but she could not comprehend what he was saying as she stared at the closed doors. It did not settle right in her belly and it was not the babe that was causing it as she suddenly felt an overwhelming sickness until a pair of hands cupped her face and her attention was focused solely on Robb once more.

" _I love you,"_ Robb murmured, pulling her into a deep, passionate and tender kiss. "I love you. I love our child and all the children to come. You will make a great mother, I know it. Be it a boy or girl. Perhaps both. We will win this war, I promise. I will give you the Iron Throne like I promised. And I will avenge my father like I promised my mother. We will conquer this world together, this world and any other. _Forever and always._ "

"Always and forever," Boudicca swore, her face softening considerably but every fond feeling she felt soon faded when a song built up gradually, the drums slowly down but the harp picked up.

 _"And who are you, the proud lord said, that I must bow so low? Only a cat of a different coat, that's all the truth I know..."_

Boudicca's eyes widened as her heart began to weep, her head slowly turned so that she faced Ser Barristan. His eyes were trained firmly on her and their eyes spoke the same feelings she felt right at this very moment. She could see Ser Barristan's hand slowly fall down to the handle of his sword, getting ready to withdraw it. The music picked up and she looked back to Robb hurriedly, grasping onto his face and shoulder firmly and began to tug at him.

"What is it?" Robb asked concerned.

"Let us leave early. _All of us_ ," Boudicca whispered desperately, dread filling her as the song echoed a warning in her ears. " _Please_. We have to leave, Robb. W-We have to go!"

 _"And so he spoke, and so he spoke, that lord of Castamere, but now the rains weep o'er his hall, with no one there to hear..."_

"As much as I want to leave, Boudicca. Let us not offend Walder Frey further than we already have," Robb dismissed, shaking his head. Boudicca felt tears gather in her eyes as she shook her own head fiercely, digging her nails into his leather clad shoulder and her eyes slowly trailed towards Lord Frey. The man smirked at her, raising his goblet to his lips and took a long sip as utter terror took over her mind, heart and body as she stared at him.

 _"Yes, now the rains weep o'er his hall and not a soul to hear..."_


	28. Chapter Twenty Seven

_The Twins_

Boudicca Baratheon

"Your Grace," Walder Frey addressed, causing her to still as the awful music ended and he looked at her with his goblet raised and his eyes dark with a sickening gleam. "I have come to notice how terribly rude I have been to you, my Queen Boudicca. Allow me to present a _gift_ to you."

A sudden sharp slap echoed dangerously in the hall, causing her to turn around quickly and she saw that the Lady Catelyn had risen from her seat, knocking it over in the process. The auburn haired woman had backhanded Lord Roose Bolton, causing his head to fly back. Boudicca was certain if Lady Stark had hit him any harder, his neck would have broken and how she wished it would have. The Rains of Castamere came to an unforgettable stop and the hall feel into a tense and deadly silence that brought a chill to her.

" _Robb!"_ Lady Catelyn screeched wildly.

Boudicca felt it before she saw it, arrows were flying from above. The musicians transformed into bowmen and their instruments turned into crossbows. The arrows flew towards them and one had managed to embed itself into her leg. She made an attempt for Robb but fell to the ground with a heavy thud, letting out screams of anguish and rage as she declared House Frey _traitor._ Ser Barristan dove over the table and approached her side, shielding her with his heavy armoured body and his sword withdrawn as he picked her up from the stone floor. Her wolf reacted immediately and rushed to her but a release of several crossbows sounded and she looked on with horror as three arrows lodged themselves into Robb, knocking him back.

" _Robb!_ " Boudicca screamed, struggling against Ser Barristan's tightening grip around her waist. "Robb!"

Boudicca looked desperately around the hall watching as Ser Wendel Manderly rose to his feet, crying out in outrage but his cries were immediately silenced when an arrow was lodged in his throat and this spurred Smalljon Umber, who let out vicious roars and knocked over tables and Frey soldiers alike to reach them, that is when the chain of events unfolded and the fighting truly broke out between them, chaos erupting in the hall. She looked down at her leg and tore the arrow from her body with a pained yell before turning frantically towards Sansa and pulled herself out from Ser Barristan's grip, she let out a heavy moan of pain when she saw that Beth and Jeyne had been caught in the crossfire as they continued to rain hell of steel that pierced through flesh upon them.

Boudicca ran for Sansa and shoved both her and Lady Catelyn harshly under the tables as more arrows were raining down from above them. _Let it end, proud lord,_ she prayed, holding both her stomach protectively and clutched her heavily bleeding leg with all her might along with Sansa as tears slid down her pale cheeks. _I may be a cat of a different coat, my lord but please...let this end...let it end._ They could do as they wished to her; they could imprison and torture her, they could rape her, kill her, her life mattered little but she would not let them harm those she loved, her claws were just as sharp as their swords and arrows.

Her eyes became blurry with tears as more arrows were fired at Robb, she could barely make him out as she reached over and gripped the screaming Sansa harshly. Boudicca could barely breathe, her breath was laboured and she looked up from under the table and saw what was happening around her. All hope had left her then as she stared around the hall blankly, watching people she knew, people who were her friends, get _massacred._ The halls became crimson. Boudicca heard men and women alike screaming and yelling their last cries of agony as they were getting slaughtered. Her people, people that she called a _friend_ , people that she loved, were getting killed.

"We must go!" Ser Barristan shouted firmly, grasping her arm. " _Now_!"

"Robb!" Boudicca screamed, trying to tug herself out Ser Barristan's grip as he pulled her along with Sansa to their feet.

Boudicca could not think, all she could think on was Robb. She panicked, looking vigorously through the tears that blurred and burned her vision for him. Her eyes eventually landed on him and she let out a pained cry, unable to do anything but scream and cry. _Weak,_ her thoughts hissed at her. _Helpless._ All she could do was scream for him; she could not fight, she could not move, all she could do was _scream._ His blue eyes landed on her and Robb made a move towards her but he fell down as another two arrows were fired at him, the first pierced his back and the pointed tip stuck out from his chest and the second went through his right leg, which brought him to his knees. His entire body was riddled with arrows, she trembled as she gripped onto Ser Barristan.

"Robb!" Lady Catelyn cried desperately, running for him but an arrow that pierced her shoulder flung her into nearby tables.

Boudicca shrugged off Ser Barristan's grip fiercely, grasping a butter knife from a table near her and made her way to Robb. She collapsed in front of him, crawling towards him as they both made their way to each other, tears were running down their faces as they grasped tightly onto each other. His skin was pale, paler than she had ever seen it and his eyes were dull. Her heart was pounding wildly as she sobbed, clutching onto him fiercely until she was sure that she was drawing blood. Boudicca's eyes landed on an arrow in his shoulder and pulled it out, throwing it fiercely to the ground as tears fell from her face.

"Robb, _please_..." Boudicca croaked, unable to regain her breath and gripped his face harshly. "W-We have to g-go... _come on..._ l-let's get you...let's get you u-up..."

"I can't," Robb murmured.

"You can!" She hissed, pulling at him desperately. "Do not say such things!"

He was looking on at her with such hopelessness in his eyes but she shook her head fiercely, tugging at him. He ignored her and his eyes trailed off to the side, his breathing becoming far more laboured than it was but she still shook him with all her might, determined to get him to his feet. Robb licked his pale lips before he shook his head once more, murmuring something incoherent under his breath. Her husband managed to stand without her help and as they rose together, he pressed a kiss to her lips, the taste of tears was present in their kiss as she kissed back fiercely and desperately but he pulled away, caressing her cheek with the back of his finger.

" _No_ ," He answered. "Ser Barristan."

Her face became one of confusion but after he said this, arms wrapped around her and pried her away from Robb, all she could do was fight desperately and pathetically against Ser Selmy's hold as he began to drag her away. Robb kept muttering and whispering under his breath but his eyes were nevertheless fixated on her. She kicked and screamed madly, fighting with all her might. Boudicca repeated the familiar mantra of his name until she could no longer scream, her cries were hoarse and bloody. Boudicca's eyes never left Robb's as Ser Barristan dragged her and Sansa away from the bloodshed, despite their pleas and begging. It fell on deaf ears.

"Lord Walder!" Boudicca roared but the sound of clashing of steel and the cries of the helpless made her go unheard. After Dacey Mormont was given a blow to the stomach with an axe, more men stormed the halls. The little hope she had was fading fast when she saw that they did not belong to the North nor the Riverlands or even the Stormlands nevertheless she still screeched for the Late Lord Frey. Boudicca could hear an ongoing battle outside of the hall and also heard the howling of a wolf. Of Grey Wind. "Let it end, Lord Walder! _Enough!_ Let this end! Take me! _Please!_ Let them live...You can kill me but let them live! I beg of you!"

"Take you?" Lord Walder mused, cackling loudly from where he sat. "Your grandfather specifically told me that you were to be kept alive! He made me pretty promises and gave me pretty pennies to make sure I didn't."

"Boudicca," Robb said, his voice faint. "Do not..."

"Lord Walder!" Lady Catelyn screeched half mad, as tears of blood fell from her face that she had clawed. "I beg of you, stop this madness!"

Boudicca's eyes darted to Lady Catelyn as Ser Barristan held her against his chest, holding her so tight as he made his way to the end of the hall with her and the auburn haired girl at her side. The Umber's were fighting off any Frey that came near them, she watched as man after man dropped in front of them. It seemed nothing could hold back Greatjon and Smalljon Umber as they brutally hacked into the men that came any closer to them as they made their way towards the doors of the hall. Boudicca was unable to get back to Robb Stark, the man who held her heart and all she could do was watch as Robb fought for what little life he had left, trying to keep himself standing but he fell to his knees once more. Her eyes landed on Lady Stark, who held Lord Frey's wife by the hair and had a knife pressed firmly to the girl's throat.

"Please!" The blue eyed woman begged. "Let this end and I swear that we will forget this slight and not seek vengeance, I swear this by the Old Gods and the New Ones! I beg of you, let them live!"

"He already swore one oath to me!" Walder Frey sneered. "You swore that your son would marry one of my daughters! And what does he do? He marries a Baratheon _cunt_!"

"Please, Lord Walder! I can be your hostage as can my brother and my uncle!" Lady Catelyn pleaded. "He is my first born son...my son..let him go!"

"Or what?" Lord Walder laughed, looking down at the vicious woman curiously.

"Or I will cut your wife's throat!" Lady Stark said fiercely, digging the dagger into the girl's throat.

"Robb!" Sansa screamed, causing his eyes to flicker towards them but all she could do was stare on with tears in her eyes. "Please!"

"I can find another one...perhaps your daughter will do," Walder Frey said dismissively.

" _Get up, Robb!"_ Get up and walk out, please!" Lady Catelyn cried, her wails of grief matching her own. "Please for me, for Sansa..for Boudicca, for your child, for Grey Wind! Leave! _Please_!"

"Boudicca..." Robb trailed off. "Grey Wind...Sansa..."

"Yes, Robb! Go to them," His mother said breathlessly. "Leave with them. Leave with them now!"

"And why would I let him leave?" Lord Frey scoffed, pointing towards her. "I can let her leave, she is to be kept alive! Your son...I want to see the light leave his eyes!"

"Lord Walder Frey!" Boudicca screamed, blood flying from her mouth along with spit. "Let Lady Catelyn, Sansa and Robb leave. I will do _anything_!"

"Anything, eh?" He snorted. "I already have everything I want."

Boudicca felt her heart pounding in her chest as she saw the Frey's close in on them causing Ser Barristan to push her and Sansa behind him and kept his sword pointed towards them. Smalljon launched an axe towards the first Frey that had advanced on them, smashing their skull open while Greatjon butted his head against another and swung his mace down on their face. She held the sobbing and wailing Sansa to her chest firmly as the girl racked her nails down her bare shoulders, digging them in. It felt as if a three eyed raven was attacking her. Robb managed to stand in the middle of the hall, she let out breathless sobs as he managed to gain enough strength to get to his feet.

"The King of the North arises!" Walder Frey sang mockingly, his cackling filling her ears as she looked on at her wolf die in front of her very eyes and she could do nothing about it. "Tell me, was it worth all this to become King of Westeros, boy? Look around you! Your beloved wife will have that welp inside of her cut out as she is shipped off to Casterly Rock! Your mother will die! Your sister will die! You will die! Was it worth it?"

"Robb, please!" Lady Catelyn pleaded, her voice shaking with rage and pain. "Robb!"

"Was it worth it?" Old Walder Frey demanded. "Was this bitch worth dying over?"

" _Yes_ ," Robb answered, his voice shaking as he swallowed and looked over to her. "She was."

Roose Bolton approached Robb and she roared at the Leech Lord. He stilled and turned ever so slightly to face her, a smirk evident on his face as tears ran down her own. In his flesh coloured cloak and black armoured he stepped in front of her husband, a look of hatred and triumph in his eyes, that revealed all. Lady Catelyn wailed, as the woman knew what was to come next as did she. Boudicca could not move, she could not speak or blink. All she could do was stare. It felt as if the sands of time had stopped.

"The Lannisters send their regards," Roose said, thrusting the knife into Robb's chest.

" _Boudicca,"_ Robb managed out faintly before Lord Bolton pulled the knife harshly out of his chest.

Robb whispered something that went unheard, his eyes briefly looked towards his mother before his eyes met hers once more, green met blue and their eyes never left each other until he collapsed to his knees before his eyes rolled to the back of his head and he slumped to the ground, landing in a puddle of his own crimson blood. Boudicca stood and stared, unable to do or say anything as her mouth parted in a silent scream of agony. It felt like a dagger was thrust into her own heart. It felt as if her heart own heart had stopped beating as she stared down at her husband, her best friend, lying in the bloodshed. All she saw was _red_ and _red_ was all she would ever see.

 _Let it end..._

Boudicca let out a scream then, at the top of her lungs and threw her head back as she did so almost collapsing to her knees as they buckled . Lady Catelyn cried out her own agony and slashed Lady Frey's throat. The woman stood there in horror, staring at the body of her dead son. Of her first child. Sansa squirmed in her grip fiercely as one of Lord Frey's many sons came up behind Lady Catelyn's throat, they slashed it and cut her throat so deeply it went to the bone. Her blue eyes looked briefly to them before they fluttered shut and she was the next to fall at the hands of the massacre, falling to the ground with a sickening and heavy thud.

"I will take everything from you!" Boudicca vowed, crying out her vengeful song as Ser Barristan hoisted her up and they took off from the hall, the Umber's stayed behind along with survivors of the massacre to fight the Frey's off as he dragged her half mad out of the hall with a wailing Sansa in tow but she still struggled against the man. "I will _massacre_ the whole pack of you! I will burn your house to the ground! No man, woman or child will live! I'll kill you...all of you! I will rip your throats out! I'll tear your hearts out with my bare bloody hands! _Traitors_!"

Boudicca did not have any more strength to carry on and let Ser Barristan flee the hall with her willingly taking her and the auburn haired girl to the stables. She kept silent, her eyes never leaving the Twins. Boudicca could feel with each step they made, her sanity slowly slipped away as she imagined the Twins set alight with each Frey, from the young to the Late Lord Walder trapped inside and in her mind, she imagined having flayed the still living Frey's and hanging their dead and skinless bodies outside of the Twins as she gorged on their blood and flesh. Ser Barristan dug his sword into the neck of a soldier, throwing him from his horse and hoisted both her and Sansa onto it with him following shortly after them. He spurred the horse away from the stables and they rode through the never ending slaughter.

 _I will have all your skin._

* * *

Ser Barristan rode the horse fiercely through the insanity, Sansa kept her head buried into her chest as she wept. All Boudicca could do was stare on blankly as the men and women around them were getting slaughtered, some of them were children. _Like Beth and Jeyne._ It seemed as if no time had passed as they made their way through the encampment, her possessive thoughts focused solely on her siblings. Boudicca still had tears fall from her eyes but she felt nothing, she was unable to care for the tears that were stinging her skin. Her husband, her wolf that was honourable, passionate, kind and _good_ was _gone_.

 _They took him from me._

Boudicca would never again be able to hear his voice, to embrace him, to see the bright smile she so loved nor the way his blue eyes would light up when they landed on her face or her belly or whenever she smiled at him. Boudicca would never again be able to feel his touch, to feel the kiss of his lips and would never able to place her hand on his rough beard that he was so fond of. Or twirl her fingers through his soft curls that were like fire. Now, if they somehow managed to survive this fray, she would forever sleep in a cold, empty bed and no one would ever love her like he had done.

 _He is gone. He promised he wouldn't leave me alone in this world. He promised me forever. As I promised him always._

Boudicca heard noise pick up from the Twins and Ser Barristan turned the horse around to look back at the Frey's and she noticed them riding out. She looked on in anger as she saw her banners, along with her husbands being burnt. The banners of House Frey, Bolton, Whitehill, Spicer and _Lannister_ were raised high in the air, wildly moving with the wind as the men below them danced and shouted of their drunken victories. And they were _laughing._

" _The King of the North!"_

 _"The Young Wolf!"_

 _"The stag's bitch!"_

Her eyes averted to the bridge of the Twins and she saw a horse come riding out, pulled by several men. It took her no more than a few moments to realise who's horse it was. _Robb's._ Her face fell slack while she stared on with empty and vacant eyes as she looked up to see what or in this case, who was on the top of the horse. _Robb._ Boudicca was sick then and there, all sorts flying from her mouth including blood as she saw what they had done to him. She coughed, gagged and wretched as she looked on. Robb's body sat on top of his favourite horse, tied and strapped to a saddle so that he was upright. They had removed his head and in place of it, Grey Wind's was sewn on along with a crown and even from a far distance, she could still the see the arrows that riddled his body.

"Do not," Ser Barristan muttered angrily, looking over his shoulder at her. "It is best not to look, Boudicca."

Boudicca could not breathe, every time she did so, no air came in nor out. Ser Barristan urged the horse into a fierce gallop as Sansa let her head rest on her shoulder, sobbing softly. She managed to hold the girl to her tightly as the cries of their glory and victory, and her defeat and loss rose in her ears and it was all she heard while they rode into the dark night and into the dense woods. All she could do was close her eyes and pray for it to end. _Let it end. Let it end. Let it end..._

They had ridden for a while until she thought of her sister and brother along with Ser Davos. Ser Barristan said that they would have no doubt fled to the woods, so they spent the entirety of their journey tracing the foot and horse prints in the marsh ground. They came across a large rushing river and her eyes widened when she saw three soldiers wearing the sigil of House Wylde and she jumped off from the horse and made her way towards them, limping towards them.

"Where are they?" She demanded frantically. " _Where are they_?"

"Boudicca!" Ser Barristan called after her.

Boudicca ignored them as she limped further towards those of House Wylde when she noticed a small and brown leather shoe that belongs to a boy, that belongs to her brother. She bends down, despite the pain she felt and wipes the mud from the shoe and presses it to her lips, letting out relieved yet agonising sobs. _Tommen._ Her eyes searched vigorously, eyeing every tree and every brush as the words of the men fell deaf to her ears...until a voice sounded. Her eyes widened and she looks around frantically, tears falling from her eyes.

"Tommen!" She screeches hoarsely, looking around for her blond haired brother. "Myrcella!"

"Boudicca!" He wailed, her head snapped towards the blond boy racing for her.

Boudicca lunged for him as he leapt into her arms and she pulled him to her tightly, falling to the ground by his side. She wrapped her hand around the back of his neck and held him tightly to her as she let out heavy sobs while he cried. Boudicca could not bring herself to hush him, she could not bring herself to do anything as she pulled away from him and their foreheads met, their warm breaths hitting each other's faces like a caress. All she could do was weep breathlessly. _I am tired, so tired..._

"Where is Myrcella and Ser Davos? Where is Orion?" She murmured softly, tears sliding down her face. "Where are they?"

"N-No..." Tommen sniffed. "We were split up. The Wylde's m-managed to take me away, we are w-waiting...I-I didn't know w-what else to do...I'm sorry!"

"No. You must _never_ be sorry," She spits fiercely. "It was _them._ I will kill them all. All of them."

"Boudicca," Ser Barristan said softly, causing her brows to furrow as she looked up towards him and the moment she saw the look on his face, she did not want to turn around as she slowly stood. _No more..._

Boudicca shakily stood up and turned on her heel ever so softly, to see a figure approaching with a handful of men. It was Ser Davos. Her entire being, both mind and heart stopped for that moment, when she saw him emerging from the trees and the bushes carrying a figure. The figure's long and golden hair cascaded down his arms as he held the limp lithe figure. His face was distraught as she stared on, shaking her head in denial as a smile appeared on her face.

"No..." Boudicca laughed emptily, shaking her head as she stumbled back as he continued to approach her and she weakly let out a soft, " _No."_

Ser Davos merely shook his head as he approached her and lay the girl down at her feet as he knelt by her side. Boudicca looked down and all she was met with was vacant green eyes staring back at her. The blood from several deep wounds from arrows caused her pretty yellow dress she wore to become red. Her brother began to weep and cry but all she found herself doing was staring, her trembling hand came to cover her mouth as she collapsed to her knees and sobs began to shake her body fiercely.

"M-Myrcella..." Boudicca said, shuffling closer to her and knelt by her, reaching a shaking hand out to touch her but she quickly withdrew it and shook her head, sobbing harder. "Myrcella! Answer me!"

 _My little sister,_ Boudicca thought. Myrcella merely said nothing and she would never say anything again, Boudicca shook her head as she lifted her sister into her embrace and gently held her, every touch delicate as if it would break her sister's body. She petted Myrcella's blonde hair before she clutched the back of her head tightly and began to scream, burying her head into her sister's shoulder as she screamed. Boudicca began to rock her sister back and forth, her whimpers having turned to wails which transformed into more terrible screams. All she could do was scream as her younger sister's body went cold in her very arms.

* * *

Author's Note: Hey, I hope you liked these chapters (and please don't kill me for what I did!) I know a lot of you wanted Robb to live but I tried to let him but unfortunately that wouldn't allow me to shape Boudicca into what she must become which is a Warrior Queen (though he might make appearances every now and then...) And I killed Myrcella mainly to do with the fact of Cersei's prophecy that is slowly starting to come true and the fact that Myrcella (and sort of Tommen) were a moral compass for her and now that she has lost Robb and Myrcella, she has no one who can fully hold her back. I would like to thank all of you reviewing, I really appreciate every review I have received and I would also like to give massive thanks to everyone who has read this story, made it one of their favourites and have followed it! If you have any questions feel free to ask.

Reviews-

RHatch89: It's finally happened, I hope you liked these chapters despite the horrible things that happened to them!

Karen: I hope you like these chapters even though nearly everyone dies and unfortunately I had to kill Robb (forgive me!) but I had to, though I would never say that he is gone for good because he will make some sort of appearance.

ZabuzasGirl: Don't worry, the Frey's will die. She will be going full Rains of Castamere on them (along with the Bolton's, the Spicer's and everyone else involved in the Red Wedding) soon.

Provider of odd things: I had to kill Robb off but I did spare her child as it would be out of character for Boudicca to just allow them to touch her so her child lives! The Dragon Queen vs The Warrior Queen will be a thing to look forward to in further chapters but Daenerys will crop up a few times (though she only will be mentioned) until she finally comes to Westeros. The Daenerys plot is all canon. Boudicca will be pissed and you will see an almost merciless side to her that many people haven't seen before yet, she can be capable of killing but cruelty...there definitely will be a side to her that some people might be surprised at and some people might be expecting!

chm01: Yep, he was acting stupid and that cost him dearly.

day2467: Thank you, I'm glad you think so! I have killed Robb but I haven't killed her baby as both Sansa and her son will strive her to take back the North (and Winterfell) in future chapters but as of now, she just wants revenge

birdy: I hope you like Chapter's 27 and 28!

Guest: The reason Robb wouldn't leave, no matter if she told him or not, would just be down to thinking Boudicca was paranoid.

sassygirl9811: That pretty much sums up Chapter 27!

celticank: Boudicca's baby has survived! Along with a few others (though I won't be mentioning who) and I can definitely say that she will turn on the Lannister's.

alex love panteli: Thank you, I'm glad you think so! Unfortunately, he had to die but that doesn't mean he won't appear.

Godlikelover16: Thank you, it means a lot to me that you think so and I'm glad you like a change. I like writing about Boudicca and have grown to love her character so I am glad that shows with my writing.


	29. Chapter Twenty Eight

_The Twins_

Boudicca Baratheon

" _Gentle Mother, strength of women,_ _  
_ _Help our daughters through this fray._ _  
_ _Soothe the wrath and tame the fury,_ _  
_ _Teach us all a kinder w-way..."_

Boudicca murmured softly, rocking her back and forth as she stared blankly out at the river. She let her sister's blonde head rest against her shoulder and made little to no attempt to move. Her little brother caught her attention and she watched as he sat closer to them, his face red as he sniffed. Tommen was hurt but she could not find it within herself to offer him any words of comfort. Boudicca stroked her sister's hair and went back to humming the soft softly, she couldn't comprehend how she felt, all she felt was numb. It felt as if nothing mattered anymore.

A hand was suddenly placed on her shoulder, causing her head to snap up and she came face to face with Ser Davos and he appeared to have tears threatening to spill from his eyes. She shot him a wild look as he tried to pry her arms away from her sister but she struggled against him fiercely. _No!_ Boudicca thought frantically as she held her frail little sister tighter to her body. _I can't leave her alone!_

"Boudicca-" He began but she shook her head vigorously as tears fell down her face. "You must let her go."

" _No_ ," Boudicca replied hoarsely, her voice barely above a whisper. "She will wake."

"Boudicca," Ser Davos said, his words causing a sob to escape her lips. " _Myrcella's gone."_

After that, Boudicca went limp and he grabbed her arms gently, slowly edging her away from her sister's body so that she fell gently to the ground with a soft thud. Ser Davos shrugged off his cloak and draped it over her shoulders so that she was unable to dig her nails into her flesh and instead, dug her nails into the fur around her shoulders. All she could do was stare at her sister's peaceful face, she watched her once beautiful sister turn a deathly pale. The eyes that mirrored her own met hers and she let out harsh sobs at the emptiness in them, collapsing against Ser Davos and cried into his shoulder.

"T-That's my sister!" She wept. "My little sister!"

"L-Look..." Sansa began, her voice trembling causing Boudicca to look up from Ser Davos and she stared intently at the auburn haired girl as she shakily reached out closed Myrcella's eyes. "There. Now it looks like she is asleep."

"The world cannot harm her anymore," Ser Barristan stated, causing her to nod softly.

"How?" Boudicca asked, looking to Ser Davos with cold eyes.

"Frey soldiers," He answered, his eyes remaining on Myrcella. "I failed you."

"No!" She seethed, sitting up and turned to face him fully. "We were betrayed. You did not fail me."

Boudicca let her eyes close, listening to the echoing chants in the distance and vengeance filled her pained and heavy heart. Boudicca could not say her sister's name without turning sad and after she turned sad, she began to grow angry. The sadness had gone and it left her with nothing but _fury_ , a new found fury that was burning inside of her. She continued to stare down at her sister's body and slowly brought her brother into her embrace, letting his face bury into her chest as he cried. Boudicca let her eyes close once more and when she did so, she could still remember Robb's blue eyes staring into her own.

 _The Lannisters send their regards._

"I want to prepare her body," Boudicca whispered. "I wish to be alone. Leave me."

Boudicca placed her hand on the small swell of her belly, looking towards Sansa with a hardened look as the teary eyed girl bowed her head and took Tommen away with her, Ser Barristan trailed behind them, leading the horse away with his sword drawn and ready. The soldiers that had gathered to them and survived the slaughter, followed shortly after them but it was Ser Davos who stayed, loyally kneeling beside her and she reached over, cupping his bearded cheek.

"I will be alright," She urged. "I want to be alone."

"If you are sure, my Queen," He said with uncertainty.

"Yes. I want you to prepare the floating pyres," Boudicca commanded, her eyes trailing to the river where she noticed the rowboats.

 _Boudicca..._

Ser Davos nodded, rising to his feet and he bowed to her before turning on his heel and made his way, following the flowing river towards the small rowboats. Boudicca stayed silent for a few moments, stifling her sobs and looked back to her sister, clutching the furs around her neck and shoulders tighter to her body. _They have taken everything away from me,_ Boudicca thought impassively.

She thought on Lady Catelyn, on Jeyne and Beth, on Eva, on Grey Wind and Orion, on Myrcella...and on Robb. She looked down to the small swell of her stomach, the last ounce of hope she had was residing within her and she let her hand rest on her belly while she gazed down at her sister. _I shall take everything from them. Their lands. Their titles. Their families. Their heads. I will have their skin._ With that final thought, Boudicca set to work on preparing her sister's body, despite the pain she felt in her aching heart.

 _I don't care what anyone else thinks, what the Gods think or what the world thinks. I don't care what you have done_ , her sister's voice echoes painfully in her mind. _I am lucky to have you. I'm glad that you are my sister._

Myrcella looked peaceful as if she were truly asleep like Sansa had said. Boudicca had covered her head to foot in flowers, trying to cover up the horrific wounds that were inflicted on her sister's body. Her yellow dress was like a golden shroud covering her sister's body along with her beautiful golden hair. Boudicca also braided her sister's blonde hair for the last and final time, weaving various wildflowers within her curly locks like she used to do with her sister. Boudicca could not feel anything anymore as she stared at her sister's body, she could not feel anything except a numbness.

It felt as if she were submerged in the icy waters of the river and she could not escape them. Boudicca dipped three fingers in her sister's blood and looked down at it impassively before stroking the three fingers down the left side of her face. She could not help but wonder how her sister died, it plagued her and consumed her whole. Was it agonising? Was she frightened? Was her death quick and painless? Was her death long and painful? Boudicca could not help but question herself.

 _I am a woman grown,_ Boudicca thought to herself. _Yet here I stand while my sister and my husband are gone._

"They will pay dearly for this," Boudicca swore, moving a curl away from her sister's face as she pressed a final kiss to her sister's cold forehead. " _I promise."_

Boudicca felt hands clasp her shoulders, she shifted around to see Ser Davos standing above her. His brows were furrowed, his eyes were sad and angry. Boudicca rose to her feet and felt tears fall down her aching face once more. She could not stop the hurt in her heart, it hurt so much and she was so tired, it felt as if someone had dug their fingers into her chest and were squeezing her heart with sharp nails. Boudicca will end them, they will not live to see winter come after she has brought a storm to them, of ice and fire, of steel and blood.

 _I did not want to become my father,_ Boudicca thought bitterly. _Robb is Lyanna. I am my father. And Roose Bolton is the Targaryen that took my wolf from me._

"I'm ready," Boudicca breathed, sucking in a sharp breath.

Boudicca watched as two soldiers of House Wylde came forward and lifted up Myrcella's body and carried her towards the funeral pyre that was made for her sister, that was floating by the river bank. Her brother and Sansa came back with Ser Barristan, who held a lit torch firmly in his hand. Boudicca walked between the reeds and entered the icy water with a gasp and continued to move through the rapid waters that almost swept her away until she was knee deep in water. She clutched the funeral pyre and stared as the soldiers lay her sister gently down in the boat, she placed Myrcella's hands on her chest delicately before removing the lion bracelet that she had given her sister and noticed it was covered in blood, her brows furrowed and she wiped the blood away before pressing a kiss to the cool and beautiful metal.

Boudicca let tears fall from her eyes, letting the mix with the icy water. She turned to face Sansa who was approaching her and she stared in confusion until the girl handed her two stones with blue dots. It wasn't what they had in the Sept of the Seven but it would do. The mashed blackberries had given them the dye needed for the small circular stones. Boudicca placed the stones on her sister's eyes before she gradually moved further into the water until she was waist deep within it and she turned to Ser Barristan and gave a firm nod.

" _Burn it."_

Ser Barristan nodded, leaning down and set the leaves and twigs that surrounded Myrcella alight. As the twigs and leaves caught, the edges of Myrcella's dress caught on fire too. Boudicca stood in the cold depth of the river in silence, watching the fire burn brighter and higher. She pushed Myrcella further down the river until she could no longer reach her little sister. Boudicca looked to her brother, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and pulled him into her side, embracing him tightly as he sobbed heavily.

Boudicca looked to her chest and stroked the silver direwolf pendant before she ripped it off her neck harshly, she felt a sting but found herself uncaring for it as she clenched it in her hand. All she had left of her sister was a bracelet and her favour and she took the cloth from the breast pocket of her dress and folded it, pressing it close to her mouth and sniffed it. It still smelt like her sister. Like flowers. Like spring. It smelt of everything _good_ about her sister. _Only monsters live,_ Boudicca thought. _And I am a monster. A kinslayer. There is no justice in this world._

She could not breathe, her body could not take any more of the icy air in, her heart slowed down as she watched her sister's burning body float down the river. Boudicca wanted to feel something, anything...but she could not. There was nothing, only emptiness as she kept her brother in a firm embrace and led him out of the river and back onto the land, passing the soldiers that were kneeling at her feet.

"Do we have a messenger?" Boudicca began. "Do we have a raven?"

"Yes, my Lady. We do have a raven. Why do you ask?" A man responded, causing her eyes to flicker impassively towards him.

* * *

 _King's Landing_

Cersei Lannister

Cersei felt a victorious and triumphant smile creep onto her face, she was pleased, to say the least. It has been two days since Robb Stark was proclaimed dead, along with that damned mother of his and that meant her daughters and son would soon be returned to her. She had missed them fiercely and once she had them in her hold, she would never let them go again. They were her children and her children alone. The Red Wedding was a great victory for her house and for herself and all she wanted was her children that Roose Bolton had promised he would deliver.

Cersei could not care less about anything else other than her children, all of it was falling back in her favour; Boudicca, Myrcella and Tommen would be with her once more, like they should be. Her eldest son was soon to be married to that Highgarden whore but she found the likes of Margaery Tyrell the least of her problems, she could not care less about that little bitch. She had made preparations along with Olenna Tyrell to make the wedding at least tolerable. And now she had prepared for her children's return. Though she was angered at the fact that neither Roose Bolton or Walder Frey had sent her any ravens, telling of her children's well being and whereabouts.

 _I have much to do._ Cersei had taken care of Myrcella's and Tommen's chambers, though she tended to Boudicca's especially; she had more books placed in her room and the shelves of the many bookcases repainted and all the bedding was new. She had her daughter's circled shined and polished, ready to be worn once again. And she even had her daughter's sword polished. Now, she was ready to make preparations for the grand feast to welcome back her children, too many nights she has eaten alone.

Cersei made her way to Boudicca's chambers, clutching the circlet tightly in her hands and opened the door wide only to see a figure already present. Her green eyes narrowed dangerously and in disdain when she saw Jaime sitting on the edge of Boudicca's bed, looking around the room while he was twirling her daughter's sword in his left hand, his movements fumbling every so often. Cersei cocked her head to the side and eyed him carefully, wondering why he was in _her_ daughter's chambers.

"This is my daughter's chambers," Cersei sneered. "Get out. I am still preparing it."

"I can see that."

Her daughter's chambers were beautiful now, fit for a Princess. A dozen bunches of crimson red flowers in gold vases decorated the chambers, the doors to the balcony were opened allowing in a gentle and sweet breeze. And the chambers were decorated with gold and crimson, she doubted her daughter would be wanting to remember her time with the Stark's as she knew the old bedding of grey, white and black would remind her of House Stark's banners. The chambers were now filled with Lannister crimson and gold. The true colours she should be wearing.

"Still preparing it? I suggest you change it," Jaime said with a scoff, which caused her eyes to narrow at his remark on her hard work. "It's too boastful. It will only scorn her further."

"It will not scorn her," Cersei said, striding over and placed the circlet on the table. "These are my colours. I am her mother."

"Her husband, good mother and many of her friends were slaughtered in the carnage," Jaime leered. "You obviously have let the wine go to your head if you think your reunion with her will be a happy one. Boudicca witnessed the death of Robb and Catelyn Stark. She was the first to be attacked and has no doubt lost her child, Cersei. As for Myrcella and Tommen, what makes you think they have not witnessed us for who we really are? What if all three of them despise you?"

Cersei's brows furrowed as she cast a dark look towards him when she thought on it. She was not pleased that her eldest daughter was harmed but in the end, it was a necessary evil. If her daughter had lost the child, good. If not...they would have to be rid of it one way or another. It did not matter to her what will happen involving everything else in the weeks to come as long as her children were returned to her safely, she did not care for anyone or anything else.

"It is known that Robb Stark forced himself upon her," Cersei scoffed. "Besides, I have reconsidered and I can now marry her to someone who will be what I want for her."

"To whom?" Jaime asked ludicrously as he raised his brows towards her in surprise.

"Willas Tyrell."

"You opposed that offer before," He informed her but all she did was roll her eyes at him. "You cannot be serious. You honest think _Willas Tyrell_ , would be a good match for the likes of Boudicca? You forget, she has fought a bloody war! Boudicca became a Kinslayer, like how I became a Kingslayer! Lady Olenna, Margaery and Mace Tyrell are here for the marriage between Margaery and Joffrey and will most likely stay here for a _long_ time now that Mace has a place on the Small Council. If you wed Boudicca to the likes of Willas...this must be a jest of some sort?"

"I do not jest," Cersei snarled, gifting him an accusing look. "Boudicca is _my_ daughter, she would never betray me."

"Boudicca may be your daughter but she is her father's daughter too," Her twin brother points out. "The daughter of the great Robert Baratheon and Cersei Lannister."

"You always hated her," She hissed, spitting out the words as stalked over towards her daughter's bookshelf and picked out one of her daughter's many favourite books. _The Rains Weep O'er Their Halls._ Cersei smirked at her daughter's preferred choice of literature. This was based on the downfall of House Reyne. Cersei held the book tightly in her hand, her sharp nails digging into the bindings of the book as she walked back towards her brother and placed the book on the table nearby her daughter's bed.

"I have never hated her. I _pity_ her, I pity _you_ ," Jaime admitted, a sneer present on his face.

"We did not ask nor want your pity. We do not need it," Cersei said, raising her voice and gripped the edge of the table. " _Leave_."

"You know why I don't hate her...it is because I can relate to her, you see? Boudicca and I both know what it is like to feel neglected by you," He retorted.

"I have never neglected either of you," She scoffed, her lips curling into a leer.

"Admit it, when you had your golden and fair son, you did not speak to her for nearly a years worth. I know because I had to stop her from trying to enter that fat oaf's chambers each night, she kept having night terrors and wept every night for a mother and for a father that weren't there. I had to stop her from going in because I didn't want her to witness her father drunk and whoring. Boudicca was Princess. Like all Princesses do she looked up to knights in ever shining armour, though she looked up to them, not because of those pathetic stories but because they were _warriors._ And who did she look up to the most? Her warrior father. And where were you when she cried into my arms each night? You were fawning over that little shite. Boudicca and I, we are more alike than you want to think and you know it. We both know what it is like to be neglected by _you_ and what it is like to look up to our father's and then be neglected."

"Our father did not neglect you, he neglected our brother," Cersei responded.

"After I had joined the King's Guard, I became nothing to him," Jaime said coldly, they were met with a long period of silence before he spoke once more. "Tell me, Cersei. When was the last time you saw Boudicca? When was the last time you heard and spoke to Boudicca? She will not be the same boisterous and proud doe that you claim to love. She has _changed_ , Cersei. You haven't seen her. Boudicca knows about us, Cersei. She knows. The wolves have changed her. The doe is dead. Boudicca is a wolf now."

" _Was_ ," She correctly abruptly. "Robb Stark is dead. She is no longer married to him, therefore, she is a widow."

"Boudicca is a Queen nonetheless. The Stormlands, The North and the Riverlands. They will still view her as such," Her brother retorted. "She is fierce."

"Boudicca has only been Queen for a few moons," Cersei said, raising a brow. "I have been Queen for over ten and eight years."

A knock sounded on the door after she said this, causing their heads to snap towards it. Cersei ordered for them to enter and a tall, lithe and doe eyed boy entered the chambers and looked on at them with wide eyes, briskly walking towards them with a piece of parchment in his shaking heads. Her eyes narrowed and she glared at him, snatching the parchment out of his trembling hands and watched as he bowed before her and her brother.

"A r-raven, Your Majesty," The boy stammered. "F-From Boudicca herself."

All thoughts left her as she dismissively dismissed the boy with a wave of her hand, he bowed once more before he hurriedly left her daughter's chambers. Jaime stood up, his armour clattering as he did so and moved to her side, standing to her left and was looking over her shoulder at the letter. Cersei eyed the letter, it had a strange feel to it and weighed heavier than it should, letting her know that there was something other than a piece of parchment contained in it.

She opened it with desperation, wanting word from her daughter that she had not received in moons worth and instead was greeted with a bloodied lion pendant falling into her hands along with a bloody piece of cloth decorated with a black lion with piercing green eyes, the green eyes of the lion seemed to be glaring at her. Her hands started to shake and her eyes widened at the three words written in blood that the letter held.

 _THE NORTH REMEMBERS._


	30. Chapter Twenty Nine

_Riverlands_

Boudicca Baratheon

"He swore," Boudicca began, letting out an empty laugh as she picked at the handful of reeds in her hand as they sat in a nearby inn, not too far from the Twins. All she could do was pick and pick at the reeds but she supposed it was better than picking at the scabs on her skin. Boudicca had also cut her locks to her shoulders as she kept pulling out clumps of hair in her sleep so she felt it would be better to be without it. It would get in the way. Boudicca stared off into the distance, gazing at the candle light that reminded her much of Robb's hair before she turned to face her brother who ate quietly with the auburn haired girl sat next to him, who did not even attempt to touch her food not that she could blame the girl. The moment any sort of food was placed in front of her, she felt sick. "Robb swore he would not leave this world without me. _Forever_ , he promised me. And I, in turn, promised him _always_. I was the Queen of the _North_...now look at me. Queen of _Nothing_."

"You are not _nothing_ ," Ser Davos said firmly, his grip tightening on her wrist causing her to turn and face him with empty eyes. "You will never be _nothing_. You are Boudicca of the House Baratheon, First of Her Name and the Bringer of Storms. I do not believe in much...like Gods and such...but I believe in _you._ I do not fight for nothing. Boudicca, allow me to take you away. Let us leave; you, your brother, Sansa and I. It is not safe for you here now nor is it safe to have a child in these parts. I want to take you away. To safety To freedom."

"What?" Boudicca asked, dropping the reeds on the table.

"I will take you away. You, Sansa and Tommen. And your child, they can be born in a place where I know that you are safe. I hold no loyalties to anyone but _you_ ," He gruffly insists to her, trailing his hand to rest on her shoulder. All she could do was stare, entranced by his words and slowly reached up and placed her hand over his own, gripping it tightly and let her other hand drift to her ever swelling stomach as she listens to him. "If you command it of me, we will leave. I can take you to my home, I can take you to Dragonstone or the Free Cities or wherever it is you desire to go. I will take you. You can live out the rest of your days in peace. We can be _free_ and far away from this damned place. All I need is your word."

"No," Boudicca says slowly, her voice hoarse and low and cold. It was colder than it ever has been. "I do not _bend._ I am Boudicca of the House Baratheon and I will have my _vengeance._ My enemies have made my kingdom _bleed_. My enemies took the lives of my husband, my sister and my good mother along with countless of innocents. They betrayed _me._ I will not forget that I will not forgive that. The North remembers and I do too. I will not turn my back on my people."

 _My enemies still live and breathe,_ Boudicca thought. It has been three days since the deaths of her husband and her sister, all her days consisted of was grieving and sleeping and travelling through the woods in the Riverlands. _The Red Wedding,_ the small folk were calling it. Boudicca could still hear their screams, they echoed in the dead of night when all was silent, they haunted her dreams and every time she closed her eyes, she saw and heard Robb. She made a vow that her enemies would suffer and they _will._ Boudicca intended to take their lands and their lives.

 _I will become death,_ she thinks to herself. _I will reap the lives of those that have betrayed us. I will fight them until my dying day._

"I never asked for this...not really. If I could have what I truly wanted..." Boudicca trailed off, looking down at her hands. "To wear a crown is such a glorious sign of power to those who see it but what of those who bear it? No one ever asks them how it feels to wear it. It is dreadful and cold and is heavy, the weight of it cruelly reminds us of our duty to the realm and what is to be expected of us...Robb used to ask me, why would I ever want to be Queen of Westeros? _You do not want_ , I had told him...wants do not enter it."

Ser Davos remained silent as he drank his ale but this allowed her to think of her enemies, they were not longer for this world, she would make certain of that. They would come to know of her fury. Her eyes flickered towards three men gathered at a table nearby, drinking, at first she dismissed them but she stilled when their quiet conversation about the Red Wedding drifts towards her. Boudicca rolls her shoulders, craning her neck slightly which allowed her to catch a hold on more of what they were discussing. If one word was spoken wrongly about the Red Wedding, she would burn this very inn to the ground with them trapped inside of it.

"The Young Wolf is dead! He is, I saw it with my own two eyes," The younger man eagerly said. "It said that the Bolton's rule the North now."

"The Guest Right, that doesn't mean shite to the likes of Frey. Has he ever heard of the Rat Cook? If he gets turned into a rat think on all of his offspring he'll be eating, he will be the fattest rat in the world," The second man added, nodding his head. "I doubt those of House Frey and Bolton will live long. The North still whispers her name. The Queen of the North, the Bringer of Storms. The names are still whispered...and they all mean the same woman. _Boudicca._ It seems the Stormland's are still in search for her. I wonder where she went?"

"Who the fuck knows! And who the fuck cares! If they can't find her, no one can! I hope someone takes their heads. The _traitors_!" The eldest man slurred, spitting out the words venomously and let his wrinkled face turn into a frown as his eyes remained narrowed on the two, that she assumed were brothers by their near identical features. The older man picked up his drink and chugged it down, before slamming the mug down on the table, causing the other two drinks on the table to spill over. "I'd pay what little gold I have to witness their heads roll. My son was caught in the crossfire, he managed to become a cup bearer...my wife is heartbroken...has not spoken a word or eaten since the news...I have to force food into her mouth...You know what mothers are like...when their child dies before their time, they are sure to follow shortly after. Like with King Robb and mi'lady Catelyn. We all know that prick Joffrey will be taken by the Stranger soon, who is to say his Queen mother won't follow after him? I hope she fucking does. Lannisters!"

* * *

It was the agonising wails and screams that had stirred her from her sleep, jolting her awake and this time it was not her dreams. Her green eyes snapped open, sitting up with fright as her heart raced in her chest. Boudicca looked to her brother Tommen, who was staring at her with wide eyes which made her wonder briefly if she had woken herself up by making such noises but as her green eyes followed Tommen's terrified ones, she stilled when they landed on Sansa with Ser Davos holding her and several soldiers surrounding them.

"Sansa?" Boudicca called for her, rising to her feet and hurried towards the riverbank. "What-"

 _Lady Catelyn._

No one could deny that this was the Lady Catelyn. Boudicca forgets to breathe then, her mind growing blank as she stares down at the floating naked body in the river bank. The stern but kind woman's body was the colour of curdled milk, grey and sickly. Her auburn hair had grown dark and had turned brittle. This was not the fierce woman she knew, this was a woman who has suffered death. Boudicca slowly approached, turning to Sansa and took her from Ser Davos's hold, pulling her away as she tried to get her to turn her face away from the sight.

"It is best that you look away," Boudicca urges. "You shouldn't have to see this."

All she wanted to do was become Sansa and break down and sob, she wanted to sob forever until she had run out of breath but she could not, she had to be strong for those who could not. Boudicca manages to get the girl to glance away although it is difficult to as all she could do was stare. Boudicca looks down at Lady Catelyn, taking note of the fingernail and claw marks marring the woman's once beautiful face, she takes in the deep cut across the woman's throat, looking at where the blood had congealed and darkened.

It made her sick. Boudicca feels tears fall unwillingly from her burning eyes, she briefly lets go of Sansa and unclasps her cloak and gently threw it over the woman's body, to give her back some of the dignity and pride she had. The auburn haired girl buries her face into her neck, gripping her arms and sobs. Boudicca's eyes remain downcast as she pulls the girl closer.

"I will kill them all. I promise you," Boudicca swears, bitter tears of anger and hatred sliding down her cheeks while she holds Sansa tighter than she ever has. "I will kill them all. Walder. Roose. Rolph. Ludd. Joffrey. Tywin. Jaime...Cersei...I will kill, the whole damned pack of them. The flayed man will rot and wither, the twins will drown and the lions will roar no longer. I promise that. We will kill them all."

" _We will._ "

The unfamiliar voice startles her and she bares her teeth, releasing the frightened and heartbroken girl as she spins around sharply on her heel to face several strange men. Ser Barristan takes a step forward, withdrawing his sword and Ser Davos grasps a hold of Tommen, pushing her brother behind him as he draws his own sword, even though he could barely use it. The man that had spoken to them was a balding man with eyes filled with mystery and wonder and was adorned head to foot in red robes. Boudicca bristles at the sight of them and takes in their appearances that differed from one another.

The man next to the red man was young, a lot of them were but what stood out to her was that he was lithe and lanky, taller than them all with a freckled face and a bow at his back, the rest of them had swords or axes but he was an archer. The man next to him held a great long sword but what drew her to him was the fact that he wore a lemon yellow cloak, that covered the majority of his face before her eyes landed on the dark haired man next to him.

"Y-You're Beric Dondarrion," Boudicca states, her voice holding mild surprise.

"Boudicca," He nods, taking a step forward causing her to take a step back. "We mean you no harm, Boudicca. I swear."

"A lot of people have spoken those words. Yet here I stand!" She snarls aggressively.

"I have reasons to believe that you are Azor Ahai reborn," The red garbed man announces boldly, causing her brows to furrow in confusion. _A Red Priest?_ Boudicca knew that her uncle Stannis had Lady Melisandre, a Red Priestess at his side, she has heard that they were demons from the way Ser Davos had described the woman's powers and that only made her grow warier of the man, wondering what he could possibly want from the likes of her. "I ask for Azor Ahai yet I somehow see you. The storm. I have seen you fight the White Walkers. It would be an honour to serve you. May we see your mother, Lady Sansa?"

"You can save her, can you not?" A man asks directly, pulling back his brown hood causing her to still. _Ser Harwin,_ Boudicca recalled the brown haired and bold man from her time at Winterfell, she had danced with him at the feast and if she remembered correctly, he made an attempt to grab her arse. Her own eyes widen when their eyes come to meet. "You can bring Lady Catelyn back to life like you have done so with Beric? Please, Thoros, if we could save Lady Catelyn-"

"She is _dead_ ," Boudicca responds coldly, her eyes flickering to this 'Thoros' with apprehension. "There is no place in this world for the dead."

"There is!" A boy protests, causing her to stiffen when his dark purple eyes land on her. "I have witnessed it myself!"

"Breath has left Ser Beric six times-," A man holding a harp says, his voice melodic and soft. "Yet he lives."

Boudicca continues to stare at the boy who looked no older than ten and two, she takes in his appearance with a small suspicion. _Purple eyes,_ she notes. Boudicca only knows of two houses that possess such a unique feature, the houses Targaryen and Dayne. She stares at him with such a burning intensity that it makes him shift uncomfortably before her eyes slowly end up back on Ser Beric who approaches them, his sorrowful gaze fixated on her. She swallows, averting her gaze before it lands back on Thoros.

"Then..." She begins softly. "You can bring back a man...I don't want him brought back six times just the _once_ even if it is only for a little while. You can bring him back to me."

"He cannot bring Robb Stark back, I'm afraid," Ser Dondarrion informs her sadly, bending down towards Lady Catelyn.

Boudicca watches on warily, clutching Sansa as Ser Beric pulls back the fur cloak that covered Lady Stark and places a hand on the dead woman's cheek. She looks on in hesitation as he leans down and presses a kiss to Lady Stark's cracked and grey lips. Boudicca stares on as Ser Beric pulls away, clutching his throat before he collapsed at the woman's side, his chest stills causing her brows to furrow. Her mouth opens in question but when a raspy gasp echoes in her ears, she stumbles back with Sansa and looks on with horror in her eyes, her mouth falling further agape when the corpse's eyes open wide.

 _This cannot be possible_ , Boudicca thinks. _The dead cannot live, by the Gods they are not meant to._

"Lady Cat..." Boudicca started solemnly. "What did Late Lord Walder do to you? The bastard...

The moment Lady Catelyn reawakened, fear had struck her, this was against everything she had believed in. This was against the Seven. This was truly the work of _demons_. The moment the eyes of Lady Catelyn landed on her as she shakily rose to her feet, wrapping the cloak around her body tighter. The flesh and mind of Lady Stark may live but Boudicca knew that the soul and heart did not. The eyes of Lady Catelyn never leave hers and it makes her brows furrow. Her gleaming eyes never leave her face, the woman's own brows furrowed as she reached up and felt her neck before her hand clasped it and she began to croak out hoarsely.

"I-I...I d-don't understand," She stammered, looking over her shoulder to Thoros.

"I can make it out...just barely," Ser Harwin tells her as he takes a step to them and Lady Catelyn speaks once more, this time, it was eager as she stumbled closer. "I...I think..."

"What is she saying?" Boudicca demanded, turning to face Harwin and her eyes narrowed.

"Father," Harwin said, a puzzled frown making its way onto his features. " _Father_ , she says. _Is that you? I waited...for so long..._ "

Boudicca stiffened as the meaning of her words began to sink in and she too was confused. _I am not Hoster Tully,_ she thinks to herself. _I look nothing like him._ The woman was looking at her with such affection that she had not seen in death. The woman came closer to them and that is when she truly noticed the foul smell, she almost made a face but decided to go against it when the woman's hand gripped her arm and she croaked once more.

"Lady Catelyn," She murmured. "I am not your father. Your father is long since gone. I am Robb's wife, Boudicca...I am your good daughter, surely you must recognise me?"

"- _Icca._.." The woman manages out, all she could do was wince at the only part of her name the woman could pronounce.

"Yes," Boudicca told her. "It is me. It is Boudicca Baratheon."

The night had lasted longer than she wanted as Lady Catelyn sat by a tree, with her knees to her chest as her eyes remained fixated on her face. The woman clutched at her throat, where the horrible wound was and every time the woman attempted to close it, it brought her disgust as the woman could never close it. Boudicca could not believe nor recognise that this supposedly resurrected woman was Lady Catelyn. Sansa had strayed away from her mother, finding it difficult to speak with her and instead spent her time close to Tommen and Ser Davos.

"Lady Catelyn-" Boudicca begins, kneeling at the sitting woman's side. "I made a promise, do you remember it?"

Lady Catelyn's hand reaches out sharply and snatches her hand tightly, her hand was icy cold and it brought a chill to her. The resurrected woman holds her hand so tightly that she finds it difficult to bear the pain of it, the woman's sharp talon like nails started to dig into her warm hand. Boudicca desires to pull away, to take her hand back and walk away from this _thing_ that was once Lady Catelyn but she finds herself unable to, she could not do that to the woman who has lost everything. At times, Lady Catelyn's memories were mixed. At times, she called her _father,_ others times she called her _Arya_ and at one point the woman called her _Ned._

Lady Stark cannot form proper sentences yet and she had her doubts that the woman ever would but she was well aware of the dark look in her hollow eyes that she remembers. Boudicca looks into the woman's eyes and all she can see is _hate_. No light, no laughter...nor any love is present in her once blue eyes. It makes her suspect then that whoever was brought forth into the land of the living was not Lady Catelyn. However, they had the same intentions as she did. _Vengeance._

 _This woman is made of stone as I am made of ice._

* * *

Author's Note: Hey, I hope you like chapter's twenty nine and thirty! I would like to thank all of you for reading this story, for following it and making it one of your favourites and I would also like to give massive thanks to those of you who reviewed, it means a lot to me! I wanted to include the Lady Stoneheart plot from the books so I hope you like it and I hope that I have surprised you! If you any questions, feel free to ask and the next update will be up soon!

Reviews-

jean d'arc: Thank you, I'm glad you liked these chapters. I agree with you about Catelyn and Cersei, they are two sides of the same coin in a way because when it comes to their children, they would do anything for them. I'm sorry I killed them off but I did introduce Lady Stoneheart and I hope you like Boudicca's revenge!

ZabuzasGirl: Yeah, Cersei is in trouble because the prophecy she feared for a long time is coming true. A lot of them are in trouble, so no one is going to be safe!

xXBeautifullyRebelliousXx: Thank you! I hope you like the new update and Boudicca's revenge, she did pull a Tywin Lannister in chapter thirty. And Robert's Rebellion will look like child's play as she has many different houses to deal with.

EMILCE CULLEN-VULTURE: Gracias!

ATP: Unfortunately, Boudicca was unable to save her because she was too far away and in the camp.

ladyres: I'm sorry but it had to be done (I know I'm a cruel person but hopefully chapter thirty makes up for the Red Wedding)

Azula: Don't worry, there will be a pov to do with Cersei soon to do with how she feels.

RHatch89: Thank you!

day2467: Hi, I'm glad you liked how she finally turned into the Warrior Queen and I hope you like chapter thirty when it comes to how she deals with House Frey. Thank you, there will be some more of Cersei soon that will include how she feels about her children and the inevitable prophecy. He will drop hints every now and then but nothing will be revealed for a long time and I hope you like these updates!

Majandra 21: Yo sé, pero tenía que hacerse, espero que les guste capítulos veintinueve y treinta!

XxOriginalDireWolfHybridxX: Thank you! Robb won't come back to life but I brought Lady Stoneheart, so I hope that somehow makes up for it along with her revenge (Robb will make appearances ever know and then) and I hope you like these chapters! I was sad writing about Myrcella's death but in order for the prophecy to happen, it had to be done because both Joffrey and Tommen are next. Boudicca definitely isn't a happy person and she isn't done yet.

Godlikelover16: Thank you! I'm glad those chapters gave you chills, I hope you like chapter's twenty nine and thirty!

celticank: Thank you! I can say for certain that when Cersei and Boudicca meet once more, it won't be a happy reunion.

ImpSlapFury: I can say that what Boudicca will do will be far worse than what Tywin did to the Reyne's and what Robert did during his rebellion. Cersei, Tywin and Joffrey are on Boudicca's list along with countless of other people but she is saving them for last. There won't be any alliances between Boudicca and Daenerys but I can say that they will one day meet on opposite ends of the battlefield.

Guest: I hope chapter thirty makes you happy, soon enough she will turn her attention towards the other houses that betrayed her. I like how you mentioned rat bastards because of what happens in chapter thirty!

fallondyson: I hope you like this double update!


	31. Chapter Thirty

_The Twins_

Boudicca Baratheon

The vengeance she felt had long since changed her and had hardened her heart as she rode fiercely to the hill. The vengeance gave her a sense of purpose. If she wanted to build a better world for her son, for her brother for Sansa...she must destroy the old one. Boudicca was tired but she would not stop, she would stop when she is done. _I am made of iron and I forged myself._ She had not possessed such a purpose since the births of her younger siblings and since she discovered she was with child.

It means more to her now, she was more than the daughter of Robert Baratheon and Cersei Lannister, she was more than the Bringer of Storms and the Queen of the North and Stormlands. Boudicca was an avenger, she would avenge the Red Wedding and the very fury that her house known was burning within her. Boudicca was too far gone, she could not tame her fury nor soothe her wrath. Boudicca would take her vengeance, she would take back her birthright from her brother and would take back the Iron Throne that her father once sat upon. She would take it all and more.

For the gentle girls of the North who were _murdered_. For her sweet _sister_ who was unjustly _killed_. For her brave _husband_ who should have _lived_ to see their child.

For _vengeance_. For _justice_. For the North. For her _child_.

 _I will take back what was stolen from me with iron and ice, with steel and blood, with winter and war. I will bring a storm to them._

The scars that adorned her body would _never_ heal. The scars would be with her forever, reminded her of what she has lost, reminding her of how she has suffered and she found herself loathing them. To prepare herself for the siege, she adorned herself in layers of Baratheon armour and covered herself in drapes of black fur and a black cloak that hid her face well. Boudicca no longer saw herself as a Queen, she saw a _warrior_. A warrior prepared for war. Boudicca was no stag nor lion but a _wolf._ A she wolf that would avenge the lives of her husband, her sister, her friends and the countless of people who were wrongfully killed and betrayed.

Boudicca looked on at the Twins, glancing impassively back towards Ser Barristan and Ser Harwin that rode up to her side. It has been two weeks since the Red Wedding, since the betrayal and since the resurrection of Lady Catelyn or Lady Stoneheart, as she more commonly went by as of late. It gave her time to plan her attack and gave her time to gather a small army. They were riding for the Twins, trying to decipher when and what time it would be perfect for them to strike. It was the decrepit bastard's nameday and both she and the creature that was once her good mother were wanting the taste of Frey blood on their tongues.

They swiftly had ambushed a Lannister garrison that morn who were riding for the Twins, she had the men slaughtered and had hung their flayed bodies within the woods. The Brotherhood had adorned themselves in the armour of crimson and gold, it sickened her to even look at the colours of Lannister. The colours that reminded her of her own mother. Her good sister, Sansa and Tommen were far away from the Twins, well hidden in the dark woods with Ser Davos. He was more of a sailor and adviser than a fighter. Her advisers were better off alive than they are dead. Tom Sevenstrings had disguised himself as a musician and him along with three others integrated themselves with the other musicians that were hired for the Late Lord Frey's nameday. The two weeks of holding onto nothing but an aching, vengeful heart gave her tie to prepare and now that she was, nothing would hold her back.

 _My enemies will see red like I saw it. All they will see is red._

It was as if the Seven had somehow taken favour in an abomination like herself as all of House Frey were gathered in the great hall of the Twins, celebrating their victories and the man's nameday. They were _trapped_ like she was. Boudicca wanted their heads, she wanted to look each Frey in their vacant eyes and she would. The last thing they will ever see is a Baratheon smiling at them. The Stormlords, the Northmen and the Riverlanders that had somehow managed to survive the massacre of the wedding, still back her and were marching for the Twins at all corners. Her army that she had managed to gather and rally up from the ashes were lurking in the woods, watching the Twins like an animal would do its prey while they waited for her battle cry.

Her eyes landed on the Frey bannermen situated outside of the Twins and noticed that some of her army were sitting down to feast with them. It seemed most of them were drunk. Boudicca's eyes grew dark with the promise she made to them that there will be darker days to come and looked back to Lady Stoneheart, who's piercing yet hollow eyes were fixated on her. The brittle haired woman covered the wound on her neck with two fingers and croaked something that went unheard to her, causing her brows to furrow.

"What is she saying?" Boudicca asked, looking to Ser Harwin, the only man who seemed to understand the woman properly.

" _She wolf_ ," Harwin said causing her to stiffen. "Mi'lady is calling you a 'she wolf'."

"Queen Boudicca," A scout called, approaching her horse causing her attention to turn to him as he hands her a small piece of parchment with two words scrawled onto it. _It's time_. "I have received the sign from Ser Thoros, the Frey's are having the celebration as of now. The Lords and Ladies of House Frey are present within the hall of the Twins. It is also reported that Lord Edmure Tully is also present in the hall."

 _House Frey,_ Boudicca thinks to herself as she keeps her eyes focused intently on the Twins. _They stand together,_ she thought coldly. _And together, they will fall._ The entirety of the world will know of her name and the fury she possesses, from the Targaryen's across the Narrow Sea to her brother and grandfather, Tywin in King's Landing. All will come to know what happens to those who betray her. The people of Westeros once scorned her house's very name and now, they will cower before the banners of stags once more.

 _Frey. Spicer. Bolton. Lannister._

"You will attack," Boudicca told him firmly, turning back to face the scout. "I want every soul present at the Twins dead but leave those who bear the name Frey alive. I want them to hang before me."

"Yes, my Queen," The scout replied, his lips curling into a small smile before he nodded to her as he turned away. "It will be done."

 _They will hear my battle cry. They will witness the storm I have brought to them. And they will fall._

* * *

An hour later, Boudicca was calmly sat at her table near the far end of the hall, sipping every so often from her goblet of wine as she watched Lord Walder Frey's nameday take place. She became tense for a moment or so, feeling the drunken eyes of Lord Frey lingering on her back and she wondered if he could somehow recognise her with those beady and vile little eyes of his but his eyes had left her just as quick as they fell on her. _I thought he could see underneath a woman's clothing?_ Boudicca scoffed quietly, giving a side glance to the High Table in the hall. The Lord of the Twins and now Riverrun was seated along with his wife, watching over everyone as they celebrated drunkenly another year of his wretched life that would come to end soon enough and she dug her nails into the table when the celebrated his new found titles and power.

" _We stand together!"_ The Frey's drunkenly slurred.

" _Hear me roar!"_ The Lannister soldier's roared.

Boudicca eyed who was sat next to Walder Frey and her eyes narrowed at the traitors, it was truly a shame that Lord Rolph Spicer nor Lord Roose Bolton was present but nevertheless she cursed every one of them to the Hells until her eyes landed on a miserable Edmure Tully, who no doubt was resurfaced from the dungeons to 'celebrate' Lord Frey's nameday, not to mention Lord Frey's name title. _Lord of Riverrun._ The very title he was given made her blood boil, the man who had her husband killed was now the Lord of Robb's birthplace and that made her tap her foot, trying to calm herself not to lunge at him with a knife. It was patience. All she needed was patience and a chance and he would be _dead_. Her enraged eyes slowly flickered up to Tom, who was playing the harp but he had his eyes trained on her, awaiting the single before she gave a soft nod and looked back down to Walder Frey, who took another mouthful of wine, laughing as he did so. The Late Lord Walder was unaware that he and his house will fall in a few mere moments.

"The Late Lord Walder Frey! I was hailed it by your dear old father," Lord Frey leered, his voice gloating as he looked to Edmure. "Look, Lord Hoster! Look at us now! Look how the tables have turned, you trout! You are dead while I still live. Your daughter and grandsons are dead, your damned brother will follow shortly after once we have found him! Your son is my hostage! And now...now I am Lord of Riverrun!"

After he had finished his speech, laughter echoed in her ears as men and women alike gloated the victory of House Frey. _Let them laugh,_ Boudicca thinks scornfully to herself. Any pride she once had, had perished the moment they thrust a blade into her husband's heart. In her heart, there was no place for any pride, all she held in her heart was wrath and vengeance and _fury._ The laughter can no longer hurt her anymore. It stopped hurting after her sister's body grew cold in her very arms.

 _The Late Lord,_ Boudicca thought as she downed the remainder of her wine despite how it made her feel sick. _The title will have a different meaning soon enough._ For the sake of the babe within her belly, she had managed to remain somewhat calm despite the fury she felt burning within her and when she suddenly coughed, gagging on the wine as she tried to contain her snarl it caused some people sat at her table to turn her away, no doubt eyeing her as her face was partly covered by her hood. The guise she had was that she had been severely burned and bore gruesome scars due to a fire and once she mentioned she was at the Twins on behalf of Rolph Spicer, they saw no means to question her anymore after mentioning his name.

"My great and victorious Lord Walder, may I tell you a story? If it pleases you of course. I am the best storyteller around, Rolph Spicer loves my stories and limericks. I have plenty of stories, mi'lord. I feel you will find this story most enjoyable and quite familiar," Boudicca began, her voice was hoarse and low and she took to mock the accent that all those from the Westernlands seemed to possess. Boudicca could mimic it to near perfection from listening to her mother and uncles for many years along with her visits to Casterly Rock as a child. "It is a bloody horrific tale to tell, mi'lord. If it pleases, may I tell it?"

"Whatever," Walder Frey drawled, waving her off dismissively as he downed another goblet of wine. "Tell us."

Boudicca rose slowly to her feet when the hall started to cheer, she kept her hood up and kept her face hidden in the shadows of her cloak. She stalked towards the middle of the hall, where Robb had stood before his death and she could not help but stare up at his dangling body above Walder. It brought tears to her eyes seeing him like this, seeing his body defiled like that. _My love,_ she thought. His wrists and ankles were bound by rope and he was tied to pillars on either side of the High Table. The head of Grey Wind was lolling at the side and a crown was stitched between his flattened ears. _I beg of you not to see me as a monster for what I will come to do but I suppose it does not matter much anymore, you are dead and I live._ All she could do was clasp her shaking hands together and her eyes became downcast as the music slowed to a standstill, she glanced over her shoulders to see the doors of the hall close behind her but no one seemed to take notice, the drunken Frey's were all awaiting her tale.

"It was a stormy and dark night, a long one and a King came to stay at the Nightfort, seeking refuge from the dreadful storm but little did he know that his life would take a more sinister turn," Boudicca began. "A simple cook of the Nightfort was delighted he could cook for the King, he had the mutton cooking for the pie and had the ale ready to serve the Andal King. He was a dutiful man, a proud one but also a heavily scorned one...he was an ambitious man until his eyes landed on the King. It was the very man who had wronged him. The King will guilty of a monstrous crime...and the cook of the Nightfort sought vengeance...the cook began to plot while the mutton cooked away..."

Boudicca looked up to the musicians and eyed Tom, gifting him a curt nod. The sorrowful music of winter had died down and a new song picked up within the hall, echoing hauntingly in her ears as it began to play soft enough for her to continue with her tale. It was a song that all those who were present in the hall during the Red Wedding should remember well. _The Rains of Castamere_ drifted throughout the Twins. It seeps through every crack and every window and door until it consumed the entirety of the Twins.

It was Sansa who had suggested they do this, as it had been played shortly before they witnessed the massacre of their loved ones. It would play once more, only this time, it would be House Frey that would fall at _her_ hands. As of this moment, she knew that her army would strike outside of the Twins while the music played and picked up loudly in the hall. It would block out the pleas for help and the cries of battle outside. The strike was led by Thoros of Myr, Blackfish and Ser Barristan. They would become a plague. Yet, she remained impassive and continued to weave her tale.

"It was the same man who had slain his son...and that is when the idea came to the cruel cook, a son for a son. That night while the King drank merrily with his companions, the cook had crept to the small boy's chambers with a butcher knife and slaughtered the innocent boy, slashing the boy's throat to the bone. And when the cook came to serve the King his pies. The pies were delicious and he enjoyed the tender taste of it...asking for a second helping, then a third and then a forth...little did the King now, that the flesh he was devouring was that of his own son!" Boudicca told them. "Although the Gods despise many things...there was nothing they despised more so than that...it was not because the King was a cannibal...oh, no...that was not it...it was because the cook had slain a guest beneath his roof. It meant no right to life for him since he killed the boy who shared bread and salt with him, once the bread and salt are shared, you are bound by oath. You violated the Guest Right, Walder Frey. And you will pay for your sin, you rat."

The Rains of Castamere came to an end when she had finished her story and with that, she grasped the edges of her hood and let her cloak drop to the very floor, the black cloak pooling at her feet which revealed both her face and the chain mail and black armour she wore. Her eyes were fixated on Walder Frey as he looked on at her with loathing, shock and realisation. His children and grandchildren shared looks of horror as she kept her eyes locked with Lord Frey's face and she let a small smirk appear on her face.

"I never shared bread and salt with you," She told him. "I never was one for bread and salt."

All the colour had drained from Lord Walder Frey's face and her eyes grew blank. He was an arrogant and ambitious man. And both arrogant and ambitious men die like all men must do but those men will be the first to go when they play the game of thrones. Boudicca knew in his way of thinking, that with the 'Lannister' soldiers in the hall backing him, she would be defeated and brought to her knees once more. _He is wrong,_ Boudicca thought viciously and eyed him fiercely as he began to lean forward in his chair, his eyes firmly on her face.

"It was not a threat I made that night," Boudicca continues. "It was a _promise_."

 _"Boudicca."_

It was Ser Harwin who made the first move. The man next to him screamed, letting out a gurgled cry when Harwin plunged his sword into the man's heart. And then, the hall was erupting into chaos as some of her army that had managed to slip into the hall with her began to attack them. The minstrels that were allied to her had replaced their musical instruments with a far deadlier kind. Boudicca stood her ground, her eyes remaining on Walder Frey as bodies fell to the ground around her.

"And now the rains weep o'er your halls," Boudicca sang softly. "And not a soul to hear."

Lord Edmure had managed to duck underneath the table, to avoid the rain of arrows that fell upon them. Lord Frey had gout and was stiff in his chair, all he could do was look on as everyone within his hall was getting slaughtered and he was unable to do anything but sit back and stare. Boudicca hopes that he feels it...the same helplessness and hopelessness that she had felt that night. The same _fury_ she had felt. Although no arrows hit Lord Walder, his wife had not been as lucky as he was and had not managed to avoid the arrows, she was dead and pinned to her chair, her body riddled with arrows. A man approached her with a knife drawn and she gave him a blank stare, her hand resting on her breastplate where her small bump was hidden but remained still.

It was surprising as he neared, she had expected Ser Harwin to end the man's life or one of her men but it was Edmure Tully, who had since crawled from underneath the table and stood in his path. No words were exchanged between them as Edmure tackled the man to the ground, fighting for the knife. As the massacre continued, she stood still in the midst of it all. The assault continued and lasted for less than a few moments and that is when the doors to the Twins opened wide, she looked over her shoulder and her eyes landed on Ser Barristan with his sword drawn and his face bloody with Thoros of Myr at his side, his garb red as the blood beneath her feet and his hands clasped together. Blackfish brushed passed them and charged into the hall, yelling the names of Robb and Catelyn as he began to beat what little living men were left with his shield. Ser Barristan gave her a curt nod and approached her as her army filled the hall.

"How the tables have turned..." Boudicca trailed off.

"No...No!" Walder Frey roared hoarsely, struggling to get out of his seat but he had failed to do so. "I-I did not know your sister was killed! I was paid to keep you alive! I swear!"

"In doing so, you made a terrible mistake. You betrayed us," She said impassively, her face blank and her eyes like ice. "And for what? It was for _gold, glory_ and _power_!"

" _Please!_ " He begged and she could not help but compare him to Lady Catelyn then while she listened to the desperation in his voice. "You can have my family...but have mercy! I'm sorry..."

"You may be sorry but..." Boudicca began, her tone light before it grew dark and cold once more. "I am having a rather difficult time in trying to believe the words that spew from your wretched little mouth. I do not believe empty words. I will have your head, Walder Frey. You will watch your family hang and your banners burn. Ser Harwin...Lord Brynden, I want you to escort Lord Frey and all those who bare the traitorous name outside. I want Lord Frey to watch as the remaining members of his family hang above their home. I want no mercy shown to them."

The hall slowly emptied as Ser Harwin began to drag the protesting Lord Walder from his chair, Blackfish knocked him around the head to silence him as they took him outside. The rest of the Frey's were escorted out the hall some went willingly while others had a sword to their backs. The hall was silent and sorrowful. The words that Lord Brynden Tully had told her echoed tauntingly in her mind. _To do war comes with a price, a price you must be prepared to make. You will see death surround you_. Boudicca could feel tears rise in her eyes as she stared up at the body of Robb and swallowed harshly, trying to rid herself of the lump in her throat.

She was mindful of the bodies that surrounded her and she unsheathed her dagger from her belt and approached him, climbing up the three steps to the High Table and reached up beginning to cut his bindings of his his ankles before she reached up and cut the binding of his right wrist letting him dangle only by his left wrist, she approached, the only sound was her footsteps echoing against the hall as she reached up and cut the last of his bindings, catching his falling body with a grunt until she collapsed to her knees on the stone floor, tears of relief falling from her eyes as she looked around the hall that was bleeding crimson.

"It is alright now, my wolf," Boudicca said, her voice hushed as she stroked Grey Wind's head, caressing his ears as she propped his slouched head on her lap. "I hope you have reunited with your father and brothers. I will take care of your bones, my love until I can lay you to rest in the crypts of Winterfell. I'm sorry I have to keep you here in this dreadful place but I must...I have many names on my list. Thank you, Robb Stark. You made me feel so loved... _so loved_..."

* * *

Her orders were carried out and with the Twins under her entire control and command and her banners flying high in the wind, Walder Frey was forced to watch his entire family die and his legacy fall. She could not feel anything as she watched him suffer. Boudicca let her hand drift to the swell of her stomach and looked on at the hanging bodies above her, their feet were dangling high in the air and hundreds of dull eyes were staring down at them. Her eyes landed on Olyvar Frey, staring at him with blank eyes as she watched him struggling for his last ounce of life before his body fell still and he stops writhing against the rope around his neck, his face having turned purple. The young man was Robb's squire and his betrayal had hurt the most.

Walder Frey was brought to his knees in front of her, screeching and hissing yet no tears fell from his eyes...except, she had one more child of Lord Walder to kill. _His precious daughter._ There was one child left to Walder Frey, a daughter by the name of Roslin Frey. Her eyes looked over at the brown haired girl, who was shaking heavily from sobbing as she was brought towards her. Lord Edmure had asked for her to spare Roslin but she would not. Her silence is what hailed her 'traitor'.

"You know who I am, do you not?" Boudicca asked, looking down at the petrified, shaking girl. " _Who am I?_ "

"Y-You are Boudicca of the House Baratheon and Lannister," Roslin quietly whispered, wincing when she took a step towards her. "You are the daughter to Robert Baratheon and Cersei Lannister. The wife of Robb Stark."

"Do you remember?" She inquired coldly. "I do. The North does."

"Yes. You were at the Red Wedding," Lady Roslin answered, tears falling from her eyes.

"You knew of the events to come, did you not?" Boudicca demanded. "You _knew_ what would happen."

"I...I d-did. Please!" Roslin pleaded, her wails growing louder. "Spare me! Please!"

"Tell me, Roslin. How old are you?" She questioned.

"Ten and eight," The girl informed her, her voice wavering.

"My husband was ten and eight. He did not survive...nor did my sister, can you guess what age she was?" Boudicca asked.

"N-No..." Roslin whimpered as she pressed the tip of her sword at the girl's throat.

" _Nine_ ," She whispered fiercely, venomously spitting the age at her. "My sister was nine. A little girl. Your family had her killed."

"Boudicca! Not Roslin!" Walder shouted, attempting to pathetically plead with her. "My daughter is innocent! Spare her!"

"Myrcella was _innocent_!" Boudicca roared, turning to face him with her eyes burning. "Lady Catelyn pleaded! You ignored her cries, she too pleaded for the life of her son, my husband and the father of my child. Yet, where is he now? _Dead!_ I watched the victory, the victory of your house. I watched as Robb's mutilated dead body was paraded through the Twins. And I heard you and your house _laugh_. And what of the harmless girls that were present at the wedding? What of Lady Jeyne Poole and Lady Beth Cassel? It is true, House Frey does stand together and together you will fall. Look at my face, Lord Frey. This face will be the last thing you see before you _die._ "

"No!"

Walder Frey's shouts were entwined with Roslin's screams as she struck her sword into the girl's throat. Boudicca kept her blank eyes on Lord Fret and pulled out the tip of her bloodied sword slowly, watching as the girl bled heavily. The girl clutched her throat, clawing at it desperately as blood consumed her. Roslin staggered backwards until she collapsed and writhed on the grass, trying to seek breath that she would never regain. Lord Walder, even with his gout, crawled to her and picked up the girl's willowy and dying body in his arms.

"F-Fath..." The girl trailed off, not able to finish her sentence before she lay still in his arms.

Lord Frey throws his head back and lets out a hoarse scream, she looked on and reminisced that it sounded all too familiar to the wail of Lady Catelyn Stark when she witnessed the death of Robb. Boudicca looked on impassively as Walder Frey slowly looked up at her with hatred burning in his tear filled eyes, the same hatred was gleaming in her own eyes and she let a small, cruel smile twist its way onto her face as she swung her sword down on his neck.

" _The North sends their regards."_

* * *

 _King's Landing_

Tyrion Lannister

It has been a week since the fall of House Frey and the rise of Boudicca, word has spread throughout Westeros of the carnage, of the extinction of House Frey. The small folk had their superstitions, rightly so, the Frey's deserved it for what they had done to her. Some claim, that Boudicca was the embodiment of the warrior. The rest claimed that she had transformed into a lion and ripped the Frey's apart and turned their grey halls red. He had a laugh at those ones but tales and variations of it differed when the truth reached his ears and the account of what happened chilled him. They said that she has hung the bodies of every last Frey above the Twins and burnt their banners while drinking their blood. He was unsure of the latter but each tale, song, poem and story meant the same thing. _Vengeance,_ Tyrion thought.

 _The King who had lost the North,_ Tyrion mused to himself with a quiet hum as he downed his fourth goblet of wine. _It turns out he did have the last laugh._

Tyrion had pressed the Spider for further answers and it seems Boudicca had not lost her child, after all, he was glad to hear it but his heart ached. It was a known fact that with life must come death, they had lost Myrcella. He had lost his niece and she had lost her little sister. Myrcella was a sweet, innocent girl with nothing but kind thoughts and he had no idea on how something that _good_ could be the daughter of someone as spiteful as Cersei. It was a harsh blow and shock to him when he heard the news. The agonising scream of his sister had filled the castle that day when she was told, the scream haunted him. Yet, he felt no sorrow or pity for her. It was her doing along with their father's. He cursed himself for not managing to escape the damned city but it was already far too late, the very next night the events that would start her rebellion began.

Tyrion had not spoken to either Cersei, Jaime or Tywin as of late nor did he want to. He looked around the Small Council meeting, unfortunately with Joffrey included, to discuss the events that had unfolded regarding House Frey and Boudicca's next move. The Small Council was in a state of conflict. His father and the Spider agree that she will unite the surviving banners of the North, Riverlands and Stormlands. His sister had deluded herself into thinking that Boudicca would bring herself and Tommen to King's Landing while he had a different thought. _Let her mourn,_ he thought and eyed them coldly. _Has she not suffered enough?_

"The storm has resided but now the rain weeps o'er their halls," Jaime says, his tone full of malice and mocking. "It will not take her long to gather an army. It did not take her long to deal with House Frey, do you know what will happen once she has dealt with House Bolton? I know her and I know Boudicca will eventually direct her attention towards us and it will not be pleasant once she does decide that she wants to lay siege to King's Landing. I know the way she thinks."

Tyrion pondered on his older brother's words and knew that they were true, they knew more than most how Boudicca thinks, even her own mother does not know how she fully thinks. His mismatched eyes landed on Bronn who entered the Small Council chambers with two men behind him carrying a large vile smelling chest of brown. He raised his eyebrows to Ser Loras Tyrell, who lingered behind the two men and the chest with his hands clasped behind his back.

"The Twins," Bronn said casually, taking a seat beside him. "We received word."

The two men heaved the chest onto the table and he winced at the harsh thud that the chest had made when they set it down in front of his father and his nephew. His eyes looked to the nervous men who had brought it in when he seen his father's piercing stare directed at them. They bowed hastily before one of the men hastily retreated while the younger and fair haired one lingered behind, he was without a doubt the messenger going by his nervous disposition.

"I hope it is Boudicca's head!" Joffrey said eagerly, his eyes gleaming maliciously. "I will serve it at my wedding feast!"

A glare from both Tywin and Cersei was all it took to make his nephew submit and he eyed him over the rim of his goblet in satisfaction at the boy's cowering stance. The hopes Joffrey had, had turned to ashes when Tywin opened the chest and the head of Walder Frey rolled out to greet them. His father looked on in silence, staring at the head with intensity while everyone gathered around the council was sat stunned and it only brought him more amusement, knowing that he was right and that they were wrong.

"The North has hailed the downfall of House Frey as the Widow's War or the Crimson Feast," The messenger reports causing him to raise his brow. "They say that she avenged the Red Wedding. Boudicca Baratheon sentenced all those who have the name _Frey_ to hang. Lord Walder Frey was beheaded by Boudicca herself. The North, Riverlands and Stormlands are toasting to 'the Avenger', to how they have not forgotten the slight against them and to the Warrior Queen."

"The Warrior Queen," Tyrion quips. "Sounds fearsome."

"Are you certain that it was my daughter?" Cersei asks, her tone stiff as she sits rigidly in her seat, her eyes blank but he could see the pain in them.

"I swear by all the Gods, I speak the truth." The man tells her, as he pulls out three letters. "Boudicca Baratheon massacred House Frey. They are no more. We were lucky to even leave with our lives once she knew I was a messenger. She told me to personally deliver their heads to you but to also deliver three letters addressed to Cersei Lannister. Tywin Lannister and you, Your Grace, Joffrey Baratheon. Your Grace, I discovered that she intends to burn the Twins to the ground and then she will make her way to Whitehill Hall and then Dreadfort."

Tyrion looked on curiously as he was handed a letter, he took it carefully in his hands and looked at the messily scrawled writing, causing him to smile fondly at the familiar hand. This letter was addressed to Joffrey, he glanced at his irritated yet disgruntled nephew. He then turned the parchment and looked to wax insignia. It was a seal he had never seen before yet it was all too familiar. It was the Stark sigil of black wax yet its eye was dipped in red and had a crown around its neck though as he read it aloud his smile slowly faded.

 _'I bow to no man, proud King. I may be a cat of a different coat but I know the truth._

 _You are losing your Kingdoms, Joff._

 _The North, Riverlands and Stormlands are no longer yours. Nor is Sansa. Nor am I._

 _I have set my people free._

 _The North Riverlands and the Stormlands do not bow to King's Landing._

 _We bow to now lions, only wolves._

 _And as long as there is one of us alive, be they high born or low born, the free Kingdoms will never be yours._

 _We fight not for gold, for lust, for blood or honour._

 _We fight for freedom and justice. For vengeance._

 _The North Remembers.'_

"You clever girl," Tyrion murmurs proudly, under his breath as he read it. _A declaration_.

"How dare she!" Joffrey screeches, rising from his seat and knocking it over as he snatches the letter from his grip and eyes it with fiery eyes. "That b-bitch thinks that she can take my lands and my people! They are mine! Mine to kill, mine to torment! She cannot set them free! How dare she! I want her dead, I want her head served at my wedding feast! I will have her burned at the stake! The witch."

"Shadows of the Mad King," Tyrion muses, eyeing him coldly. "Need I remind you of our lesson."

"You little imp!" Cersei seethed, looking to him sharply. "He is your King. How about I have your tongue ripped out?"

"Yet, you cannot, for I speak the truth. To cut out my tongue simply because I spoke it shows you are afraid of it," Tyrion responds.

"Enough, I have no patience to deal with either of you," Tywin says coldly. His father breaks the seal of the second letter that was addressed to him and read it over before he began to read it out loud slowly, the words and the way they were worded reduced him to shivers as he downed another goblet of wine, his eyes never leaving his father as the man read the letter. His niece truly had changed, she was no longer the little doe that he could read to, she had changed.

 _'When winter comes, the lions will roar no longer._

 _If you continue to hunt me down, I will bring a storm to you._

 _Of wind and rain, of ice and snow._

 _I will make the skies grow black and thunderous above,_

 _The winds will chill you in your very halls._

 _Not you nor any other can stop me._

 _For I will bring a storm to you._

 _The ones that betrayed me; like Frey._

 _They stood together, unafraid of death,_

 _But I stole their titles and their land away, burning their banners._

 _You will come to stand before me soon, proud lion._

 _After the flayed men have grown rotten and withered,_

 _I will come to meet you on the battlefield, my Lord Tywin._

 _In a coat of gold or in a coat of red,_

 _I will prove my claws are just as long and sharp as yours.'_


	32. Chapter Thirty One

_The Twins_

Boudicca Baratheon

" _Strike harder! Move quicker!_ "

Boudicca's hard eyes were intensely trained on her little brother, from his footwork to the way he held both the sword and shield in his shaking and hands. Her brother's face was red and blotchy from the effort of a long hour's practice at swordplay with Ser Barristan Selmy. She sat, resting a hand absentmindedly on the painful swell of her stomach. It brought her back to the kinder times, the times of her childhood when she would train and practice for hours with Ser Barristan in the yard. The Twins were filled with life once more, from the shouts of soldiers passing them by to those training to sounds of clashing swords. Boudicca bit into a lemon cake, having gained a rather odd craving for sour and sweet things and lemon cakes were her particular favourites. She chewed on it thoughtfully, letting her eyes close gently as she savoured both the flavour and the noises of men preparing for war.

A sniff was heard and this caused Boudicca's eyes to reopen and she looked towards Sansa, her brow creasing as she turned to her. The girl was sat beside her, looking more beautiful than ever, especially under the light of the autumn sun. She had witnessed the girl grow, from a girl to a woman and she realised then how much Sansa looked like Lady Catelyn once had. Though Sansa's normally rosy skin was pale and her eyes were red and swollen from crying, her cheeks still stained with the tears she has shed. She cried for her father and mother, she cried for her brothers, she cried for her direwolf, she cried for her friends and for her sister who she may never see again. Boudicca's features softened, her face becoming pained.

Lady Stoneheart and the Brotherhood without Banners parted ways with her since Lady Stoneheart had become their leader after the death of Ser Beric, the woman wanted to take her vengeance on the roaming soldiers from House Lannister and Frey that managed to flee from the Twins. Boudicca let them leave with the promise that she would come to meet them again but if she was honest, she would not miss them. Ser Harwin, Tom Sevenstrings and Edric Storm stayed at the Twins with her when Lady Stoneheart left with the Brotherhood. In fact, many stayed with her.

"I am sorry, Sansa," Boudicca said, her voice hoarse. "If I could...I would go back and stick a dagger in Lord Frey's throat sooner."

"It was not your fault," Sansa croaked. "You didn't know."

"No, it is. Robb and I both knew the oath he made to House Frey and I did not stay away. If I had stayed away, Robb would be alive along with your Lady mother...and my sister," Boudicca tells her, grasping her wine goblet and sips the purple liquid that stains her lips. A clash of swords momentarily draws her attention to Tommen before it lands on Sansa once more. "If I had died that day...in King's Landing. This would not have happened. I almost wish I could have all those bad things back...I wish that all those bad things could happen again...so that we can have the good."

"My brother loved you, didn't he?" Sansa inquired, causing her to nod lightly.

"Forever, Robb told me," Boudicca says, her breath hitching.

"I know he did not die for nothing then," The auburn haired girl replied, taking her by the hand.

Boudicca continued to stare at Sansa with a soft expression before they had turned back to face Tommen's training. It has been two moon's since she took the Twins, the storm still raged on at the Twins. The banners of the Baratheon stag and the Stark wolf were raised high in the air along with the trout of Tully, decorating the Twins and they were battering against the high winds fiercely. It was a satisfying and proud sight to see. Anyone that dared to approach the Twins would see the rows of hanging bodies above them. It sent a message to all of Westeros.

 _The North remembers_ Boudicca thinks. _And the North will have its vengeance._

A sudden movement jolted her from any thoughts she had and her eyes immediately were drawn to her stomach, her head cocked to the side as she eyed her swollen stomach before she felt the sharp pain once more and this time she sat up further and placed a hand on her stomach, feeling something press against it before moving away. It was movement from the babe. It unwillingly brought tears to her eyes when she felt it again and immediately snatched Sansa's hand and placed it on her belly.

" _Feel,_ " Boudicca encouraged, causing Sansa's eyes to widen when she felt the familiar movement once more.

"S-She's moving," Sansa said quietly, a look of awe making its way onto her face causing her to smirk lightly.

"You think the babe's a girl too? I thought the babe would be a boy but Robb thought differently," She chuckled, trying to smile but it all felt false and fake, the same smile she wore in King's Landing, it was a smile similar to what wore for her enemies yet this smile was to try and rid herself o the heartache. "Your brother was so happy when he discovered that he was going to become a father. It was all he ever wanted. A little pup of his own. Robb would stay up late at night with me when I felt sick or when I had the craving for the strangest of foods. He would be with me and would talk to the babe while we lay in bed together. Robb would press a kiss to my belly and then trail upwards with the little kisses until his lips landed on my own."

"My brother did that?" Sansa asked, tears falling from her eyes as she smiled a watery smile.

"Yes. Robb did that and more," Boudicca confirmed. "He would have been a great father."

"The greatest," The blue eyed girl responded. "And you will be a great mother."

"As you will be a great aunt," Boudicca says, taking a lock of the girl's hair and twirled it casually around her finger, causing Sansa's features to light. Although the young girl's features lightened, her own features darkened like the skies above them, letting them know that rain would soon fall. "I do not even know who to blame fully. Was it the Lannister's, who had ordered the attack and paid them to do so? Was it the Frey's for obeying the orders? Or was it Roose Bolton? All those people..."

"All of those people _are_ responsible," Sansa stated. "They all had a role to play in the Red Wedding."

"Aye, they did and all of those people will fall like House Frey," Boudicca told her coldly before she eyed her with care. "You hate it here, do you not?"

" _Yes_. I hate it here, you do too," She admitted, looking down to her lap. "I lie awake thinking about them, thinking about how they died..."

"Sansa, Winterfell is in Bolton's hands," Boudicca began fiercely, reaching over and cupped the girl's face so that their eyes met. "I will take Roose Bolton's son as he took Lady Catelyn's. A son for a son. I will retake Winterfell from him. Roose Bolton is currently residing in Dreadfort while Ramsay Snow holds Winterfell. I promise by the Old Gods and the New, by the Drowned One or whatever fucking Gods that there are...that I will give you back your home and I will gift you their heads. Let them eat hearty, let them sleep well for after my babe has been birthed in two moon's time...I will take back what was stolen from you, from us. I will bring a storm to them."

"W-What...What about the Iron Throne?" The auburn haired girl asked, her brows furrowed. "Is it not rightfully yours?"

"Piss on the Iron Throne," Boudicca said simply as she wrapped the girl in a firm hug.

"...You're all I have left now," Sansa whispers, sniffing to try and hold back her tears.

" _You have me_..." Boudicca murmurs, pressing a kiss to the girl's ear. "You will have me until my final breath."

"Your Grace."

Boudicca released Sansa and looked over her shoulder to see her appointed squire Edric Storm, holding a piece of parchment in his hand. She held his flinching gaze before taking the piece of parchment out of his tight grip. Her eyes met Sansa's and she wondered who the letter would be from, having not yet looked at the sigil but by the look in Sansa's eyes, she instantly thought of it as worse and was hesitant to look at the sigil. _Perhaps it is a letter from King's Landing, finally having the gall to declare war with me?_ Boudicca thought, staring at the letter with a heavy glare. _Or perhaps it is a letter from House Bolton?_

When Boudicca turned the parchment over slowly she was met with a brown wax sigil of a tree with a sword engraved into it and immediately recognised the Northern sigil. _House Forrester._ Her brows furrowed as she slowly drew out her small, thin knife and broke the seal, unravelling the letter and took notice of the messy yet cursive writing. _This letter was written by a child,_ Boudicca thinks to herself as she started to read the letter from House Forrester.

 _Queen Boudicca of the North_ _  
_ _Roose Bolton and his base born, Ramsay has taken over the entirety of the North. I am certain word has reached to you by now of this,_ _  
_ _Ramsay Snow has been named Bolton, as of late and I beg of you to help us. Please. He marched on our home, Ironrath and murdered_ _  
_ _my brother, Ethan and many of our men. He took my little brother, Ryon. My brother is currently the hostage of House Whitehill...I do_ _  
_ _not know if he is alive or dead. If he was harmed...I beg of you, from one sister to another sister, as someone who loves their siblings as_ _  
_ _much as I...please...help us. I am alone._

 _Our armed men are small and our army is not large nor does it match the numbers that House Whitehill and Bolton have. I ask of you to_ _  
_ _help us get our brother back, to take House Whitehill like you have done so with House Frey. Please. The other houses of the North have_ _  
_ _refused, you are my last and only hope._ _  
_ _Lady Talia of House Forrester._

Boudicca stared at the words will a steely expression, her fury at the Bolton's consumed her day by day and she wondered if there would be anything left of her once she did come to face them. Her eyes flickered up slowly from the letter towards Sansa and she passed her the letter before she looked towards Edric. Boudicca looked down at her ankle and pulled out one of her daggers, it was a long jagged dagger but had the head of a direwolf engraved onto it along with the stag crown. She pressed the blade into the tip of her finger, drawing blood and let out a hiss before passing it towards the confused boy who looked at her with uncertainty, clasping the dagger in his hand.

"I want you to send them this," Boudicca said impassively, trying to remain calm. "And send them a raven, tell them...that help is on the way."

"Yes, Your Grace," The messenger nodded, bowing with the dagger in both hands and walked away.

Boudicca looked to her bleeding fingertip, rubbing her finger and thumb together to spread the blood before her eyes looked to Sansa once more. The girl's hands were shaking as she read the letter but when blue met green, their eyes both spoke of the same thing. _Winter is coming,_ Boudicca thinks to herself coldly as the winds blow fiercely, wiping her hair in the wind as she rises from her seat, to prepare herself for the meeting with the Lords and Ladies. _The storm will come with it._

After she had taken the Twins, many things had happened within the two moons. A long and harsh two moon's they were. Lord Brynden and Lord Edmure left with the houses of the Riverlands that were present at the Twins to take back the Riverlands and to lay siege to Riverrun, to reclaim from her great aunt, Genna Lannister and Lord Emmon Frey. That is when she sent out a declaration to all the Northern and Stormlands houses. _You are either with us or against us._ It took a moon's worth for every letter to be received by each house and that is when the Lords and Ladies representing each house came to the Twins. Although not all of them could reach the Twins within a moon's worth, they sent her a raven, declaring themselves for her and she must admit the Lady Lyanna Mormont brought her some amusement. _A fierce girl._

* * *

 _"Silence!"_

The roaring hall became quiet at her command as she entered it and took a seat at the High Table beside Sansa and Ser Davos. The Lords and Ladies of the from the North and Stormlands were present and had argued ever since. The grey and gloomy hall was lighted with many candles and high in the air were an array of different banners. The Stormlands houses outnumbered the Northern houses in the hall as she learned a week ago that when Roose Bolton became Warden of the North, many of the Northern houses strayed to his side. It angered her that he was given a title that was by right, not his but in fact, the son she was so certain she would give birth to. Lord Penrose rises from his seat and turns to face her, his eyes holding some sort of wariness.

"I have no understanding as to why you have called us here," Lord Errol began as she rises from her seat. "How can I trust you? I fought beside your uncle Renly, he intended to kill you...yet here you stand."

"Yet here I stand," Boudicca retorts. "My uncle Renly brought it on himself when he threatened my siblings but know this, I loved my uncle. I never wanted him to die and be the one to kill him no less, I loved him...I have known him since I was a child and to face him on the opposite end of the battlefield, it made my heart ache more than you could ever imagine. I never asked for this duty, I was given it. I know many of you have lost...I offer you a chance of vengeance...a chance of peace. I want my vengeance and peace and I know you want yours."

 _"_ I must congratulate you on your victory over House Frey! I know the singers will make much of it-" Lord Penrose exclaimed.

"Let the singers sing their songs," Boudicca interrupted. "I will not be fawned over, a mere song will not bring back what we have lost."

"Aye, the bastard Frey's may be beaten!" Smalljon Umber boomed, slamming his fist down on the table. "This war is not over! The Bolton's...The Spicers...The Lannister's! They all had a part to play in the Red Wedding! They killed my King. They killed my liege Lord. They were my friends. I loved them...I will never accept defeat! Fuck survivals! Fuck peace! I want vengeance and we will have it! I say we storm towards Winterfell and kill that little bastard of Bolton's!"

"We will march and we will free Winterfell," Boudicca tells them firmly. "Or we will die in the attempt."

"The Frey's were traitors, they betrayed the Guest Right," Lord Manderly says solemnly. "The winds of winter are blowing. I do not want to fight in another war. I want to ride home and wait out the storm that is to surely come. Can you not see the leaves on the trees falling? Can you not see the rivers freezing over? Winter is Coming, Queen Boudicca and the Maester's claim it will be a long one. I do not want my men fighting and dying for a lost cause and a vengeful woman."

"Need I remind you Lord Manderly that your son was among the slaughtered at the Red Wedding along with your King!" She snapped, staring down at him with narrowed eyes before gesturing to Sansa. "You swore allegiance to House Stark, all of you in the North did and the Stark's are not dead. The wolves will come again. You still owe your allegiance to Sansa Stark and my child, the child of Robb Stark. Stark blood runs through my child's veins as it does Sansa's. I intend to give them Winterfell, to give them the North and to do so, we must rid ourselves from the traitors! The North remembers, Lord Manderly and I do too. If you turn away from us Lord Manderly, I will deal with the Bolton's and the Spicer's but I won't hunt down the Lannister's...no, first I will hunt down you and every other who denied the call. I may forgive, my Lord but I do not forget. I will never forget. If you join us, _together_ , we can have our vengeance! We will destroy those who have wronged us and lay waste to armies! We will burn their banners and their castles to the ground! Why should we bow to a flayed man who betrayed our King? Why should we bow to lions who have butchered us? Why should you bow to anyone? You are free men and women."

"We do not want to follow House Bolton," Lord Hornwood pipes up. "But why should we follow House Baratheon? I do not want to offend but what makes you any better?"

"I am not better, I never claimed I was better," Boudicca said solemnly but her voice grew fiercer with each word. "I have done plenty wrong as have they. I cannot promise you riches or glory, I can only promise you peace, vengeance and _freedom._ Will you fight with me? Will you fight for your right to be free? Aye, if you do fight, there is a chance that you will die. I cannot guarantee that all of you will live but if you leave this hall and go home, you can do so, I will not stop you but at least you will leave, at least for a while. You said it yourself, you do not want to follow House Bolton but do you think he will care for that? Do you honestly think the Lannister's will stop now that House Stark is said to be defeated? No, they will turn to their supposed traitors and it will be your lands that they will raid, it will be your homes that they will destroy, your families that they will slaughter. I can give you a chance, just a chance to fight at my side and tell our enemies that they can do everything to us but they will never conquer us. As long one Northerner, be they high born or low born still draws breath...the North and Stormlands will never be theirs." Boudicca slammed her clenched fist on the table, causing the goblets to shake as she demanded. "Are you not people who reside in unconquered lands?"

"Aye!" They roared, some fists flew into the air and some of them began to stomp their feet against the stone ground while others banged their fists on the table.

"I speak to you now...not as your better for I am not nor will I ever be but as your equal-" She paused, licking her lips and started to feel the hunger in the air. "Are we not unconquered and unbeaten as the lands we reside in? We will not forgive this slight against our people nor will we forget what those traitors have done to us!"

The hall quietens and she spares a nervous glance to Sansa who was staring at her intently with worry as she retakes her seat, her hand on her stomach while she listens to the hushed discussion the various Lords and Ladies were having before Mors Umber stands up from his seat, placing his mug of ale down and walks towards the High table in silence. Her eyes remain on him as he draws his axe and points it towards her, causing her to discreetly dig her nails into her nail as she watches on with hidden wariness, not knowing what he would say.

"There!" Mors thunders, keeping his axe pointed at her. "Sits the woman I intend to fight for! You can turn your backs but I won't! There sits our Warrior Queen! The Queen in the North!"

A few more men rise to their feet and draw their swords before kneeling, others continue to thump their feet and bang their fists in agreement. She notices Lord Manderly look to her and they exchange curt nods before he unsheathes his own sword and kneels, staring up at her. The noise in the hall grows louder and louder to the point that it was almost deafening but nevertheless it brings a smile to her face as she looks to Ser Barristan, who nods to her with a smile on his face. Lord Glover is the last to rise from his seat and he approaches, drawing his long sword and stands next to Lord Umber.

"The war is not yet over, House Glover will stand behind House Stark as we have done so since the ages of the First Men. We also stand behind you, Boudicca Baratheon," Lord Glover said, before kneeling.

" _The Queen in the North!_ " They roar, she could barely believe it as she sat back in shock. " _The Warrior Queen! The Queen in the North!"_

* * *

A babe's cry.

Boudicca looked to the chamber doors with a dazed and confused mind. The cry of a small child echoed in her mind and it was all too reminiscent to a war drum, she let her fingers run slowly down the stone walls of Winterfell as she reached the chambers that were all too familiar. Boudicca did not question herself nor this dream that she appeared to be having as she slowly opened the door the chambers and stepped inside, letting the darkness consume her. The cry softened when she entered, the door creaking closed behind her but she paid it no mind instead, her green eyes met with blue.

There sat on a chair in the corner of the room next to the small fire pit was Robb, bouncing a babe no older than a year on his lap with Grey Wind at his feet. His eyes remained on her as she took a hesitant step closer, her face falling into one of disbelief. Boudicca never thought she would see him again, in all of her years, she never thought she would come to see those gentle blue eyes once more nor the auburn hair that she so loved to run her hands through. This was a cruel trick. A horrible one and she cursed whoever did this to her. Grey Wind's eyes snapped open and he rose to his feet, his yellow eyes stared at her as he bounded happily for her, his tail wagging back and forth in what seemed to be excitement as he brushed his body against her legs as she continued to walk towards Robb.

" _Boudicca_."

 _His voice_ , Boudicca thought in pure ecstasy. _By the Gods she had missed his voice._ His voice was still the same, it held no deathly crackle or hoarseness or cruelness like Lady Stoneheart's voice had. This voice held everything she had loved about him; light, love and _life._ The child was nestled in his arms, wrapped in a small white bundle with a grey direwolf head sewn onto it and the paleness of the fabric clashed with the tufts of fiery copper hair that she sees and it brings a small smile to her face but her body still rocks with strangled sobs. _My boy. My husband and boy._

 _"_ Y-You...You are _dead_. You died before I could-" Boudicca stilled, kneeling beside her dead husband and her son, who was still in the safety of her body. Robb remained silent as his hand reached out and cupped her face, she took her own hand and held it to her face, burying her cheek into his calloused, warm hand and held it tightly against her face with two hands, her eyes never leaving his face as she felt tears slide down her cheeks. "How could the Gods be so _cruel_? It hurts so much, Robb...It hurts _so_ much. If this is a dream, I hope someone slips a dagger into my heart for me to never wake. I do not want to wake from this, I'll rip the person that wakes me apart for doing so. Why are you not with your ancestors, Robb? Your brothers and father, you should be with them. Why have you not joined them?"

"Perhaps I refused. I promised you _forever_ , did I not?" Robb asked, a smile on his face as they turned their attention to their boy. "I will wait all eternity for you. I will wait for you even when the world ends in ice and fire. You will keep me waiting a long time, Boudicca. _I love you_."

"He looks like you," Boudicca commented.

Boudicca extended out a shaking hand to their son and she let a smile appear on her face when he let out small giggles as he took her finger in his small, pudgy hand. Their babe looked like _Robb._ He did not look like her and she found herself not minding it at all. Their son was a small, round thing with pale pink skin with green eyes, although she noticed a hint here and there of blue and auburn curls of hair. He had a small, button nose and light freckles dotted his face. _He is beautiful._

 _"He is ours_ ," Robb tells her, lifting her chin up so that their eyes met. "Winter is Coming, Boudicca. The dead are coming with it. You must be strong for us, be strong, my Warrior Queen. Until you take your last breath, I will wait for you. You will protect our son, won't you? Like you protect my sister and your brother. Like you always have and like you always will. For now, you must wake. It's time."

" _No_ ," Boudicca said hoarsely as the tears fall from her face as she grips his slipping hand. "I do not want to go!"

" _You must_ ," Robb said, jerking her forward, mindful of the babe and pulled her into a fierce and passionate kiss.

Boudicca jolts up, her eyes wide and her breath laboured. She clutches her heaving chest, her heart like thunder in her heart as she looks vigorously around the chambers as tears fall from her eyes. She shakily sobs, seeing that she was in the same chambers she fell asleep in. Boudicca suddenly felt a burning pain that temporarily blinded her, she throws her head back against the pillows and grits her teeth, biting her tongue to prevent her from yelling but her shaking body stilled when she felt a wetness between her legs.

"N-No...No," Boudicca whispered hoarsely, throwing back the furs and scrambled to pull up her nightgown and looked between her legs. Another bout of pain shot through her as she cried out, it was not like any pain she had felt before, it felt as if she was being ripped apart, seam by meaningless seam. She sat on her knees and her hands scrambled to between her legs and she pulled back her shaking hands to inspect them and saw nothing but blood, causing her to let out a loud, pained scream. "No!"

The pain was increasing along with the boots against the hallway, she knew that her screams would have caught the attention of the soldiers. She threw her head back and grasped at her nightgown, shaking her head as tears fell from her eyes, muttering the same mantra. _No...No! It's too early!_ Boudicca thought hopelessly, letting out strangled whimpers and small cries at the mere thought of it. _He is not meant to be here...not for one moon's worth. No! Please, do not take him from me!_ Boudicca looked to the candle light and cried, the tears unable to stop falling.

It felt as if a knife was thrusting into her, over and over again without it stopping and each time the pain consumed her, it made her stop breathing for a moment or so. The door to her chambers opened and she clutched her rounded belly, heaving and crying when her eyes landed on Ser Davos. Her eyes were filled with tears, making everything blur together. He looked on with widening eyes, unable to look away from her.

"My boy!" She cried out.

"H-How long as-" Ser Davos stammered, unable to form words as he stared at her in shock.

"I-It's too early!" Boudicca groaned and wheezed, gritting her teeth and clenched her jaw tight as another wave of pain hit her. "I..It's too soon!"

He stared at her for a few moments before he made his way into the chambers and over to her, hoisting her into his arms and she found herself in too much pain to stop him. Boudicca clutched her stomach, unable to fully comprehend what he was doing as he hurried out of her chambers and down the eerie and cold halls. Her hoarse screams echoed in the Twins before she fell slack in his grip when the pain dulled for a moment or two. All Boudicca could do was stare at his face desperately as he carried her to Gods' knows where.

"W-Where are we going?" Boudicca croaked.

"The Maester," He said simply before he made a turn down another hall and stopped at a door but she shook her head.

Boudicca bit into the back of her hand, letting out a muffled scream when she looked down the hallways to see many people scrambling and scurrying around, her screams had roused the entirety of the Twins awake. She saw several women near her as they came towards the Maester's chambers. She saw some with various cloths and furs, she saw one woman with two buckets of water and a small white cloth. Her tearful eyes shut from another sharp, stabbing pain but as they reopened she saw her brother emerge from his chambers in his night clothes, wandering down the hall. Tommen ran towards her, his bare feet heard above the panicked people as he wept for her.

"Y-You're bleeding...don't die, Icca! Please don't!" He pleaded, fat tears falling from his face. "Don't die."

"I-I'm...I'm not going to die, my cub," Boudicca said breathlessly, gritting her teeth as more pain consumed her and she tried with all her might to contain her screams.

Ser Davos brought her into the chambers, hoisting her away from anyone who tried to get closer to her until she was laid down on the bed of furs and soft, feather pillows. A big woman with a joyful red face approached her, in a way the woman reminded her of her father, Robert. The woman was of a very heavy build and was stood next to the Maester of Storm's End, who had travelled to the Twins prior to the Red Wedding, to help her should she come to deliver. Boudicca gripped Ser Davos' gloved hand and threw her head back and felt the need to push and in doing so, her feet pushed some of the furs, making them fall to the floor.

"It's too early..." She mumbled, shaking her head. "It's too early...there is not enough time..."

"Hello, Your Grace!" The woman said, her voice booming. "Now, let's get that babe of yours into the world!"

"I am afraid all of you need to leave," The Maester said calmly, eyeing Davos at her side but she shook her head fiercely. "There will be complications."

"No. He stays," Boudicca said firmly before letting out another pained cry. "I-I want him to."

"Very well, my Queen. The rest cannot stay, they will have to leave," The Maester responded and she nodded vigorously, unable to speak.

Tommen looked hesitant but she nodded, giving a small word of encouragement and told him to go and get Sansa and wait outside of the chambers. After many people piled out of the chambers, she turned her attention solely to the Maester and to the three woman who would be helping her give birth. Boudicca did not want to do it. _He will be like Steffon,_ she thought and mourned for her son. _They will need to pry my still son from my arms like they did my mother._ The woman from earlier pulled up her shift and pushed her legs apart wide, to give them more room and to help her. The large woman looked at her with a smile, patting her knee softly. Boudicca knew that most early babes did not make it, her mother had told her so when she told her the truth about her little brother that she never knew. _The babes that did not stay nine moon's in their mother's belly,_ Boudicca recalled. _Do not live. It is a fact, little fawn. I lost Steffon because of that. I gave birth to him on the eighth moon._

"You will be fine, Your Grace. I have helped deliver over thirty children, six of which are my own and three who were born at eight moon's," The woman informed her but it brought her no comfort as bitter tears fell from her eyes as she stared blankly at the wall. "You are a strong woman. You will do fine, my Queen."

"By the looks of it-" The Maester said gravely, looking up at her after inspecting her. "It will be a long night."

"A night I will endure gladly _,_ " Boudicca hissed before throwing her head back and screamed in her agony.

* * *

Boudicca's screams echoed throughout the chambers and it seemed a crowd had gathered outside of the chambers that were currently being guarded by Ser Barristan, she heard pacing footsteps, crying and excited chatter. She tried hard to bite back her screams and tried to bite into a pillow but even then her agonising screams could still be heard. The lithe girl compared to the larger woman, dabbed her sweaty and clammy face and neck as she collapsed back onto the pillow.

"You are doing so well, my Queen," The girl said softly, dabbing her tear and sweat stained face. "You are doing well."

Boudicca looked down to her legs and to both the Maester and the heavily boned woman, although she could not see what was happening, she could _feel_ it. By the God's she could feel it. All she could see was the blood that adorned their arms and stained the furs. She was breathing heavily, unable to catch or find her breath due to her laboured pants. Her hair was soaked, sticking to her forehead and was heavy. Boudicca screamed again, tears falling from her face as another burning pain hit her, scorching her back and stomach and this time in her dazed and delirious state she found herself screaming for a man who would never come.

"Robb!" She cried hoarsely. "R-Robb!"

Boudicca screamed once more and gripped Ser Davos's hand tighter and placed her other hand on the girl's shoulder and pushed, trying to rid herself of the babe from her aching body. It felt as if the babe was ripping her in two, never before had she felt such pain. It felt even more agonising than when Joffrey had her flogged. She continued to push and calm her breathing like the third woman was instructing her and when the Maester commanded her to push, she did so. Her eyes widened slightly in fear when she saw the looks of worry on the Maester and the brown haired woman's face and turned to face Ser Davos and gripped his hand tighter, pulling him closer to her face.

"If I am going to die-"

"You won't," Ser Davos interrupts firmly, gripping her hand.

" _If I die_ ," Boudicca said frantically, groaning from the pain as she pushed once more and wriggled her hips in an attempt to rid herself of the pain. "I want you to take them away like you promised. If my babe is given the right to life, I want you to take my babe, my brother and Sansa to the Wall. I want you to take them to Jon Snow. He will protect them, I know he will. You cannot let anyone find them, S-Ser Davos! If Tywin finds out, he will my babe. You know he will, same with Roose and Joffrey. _Please!_ Promise me, Ser Davos Seaworth. Promise me!"

"I promise," He said solemnly as she pushed once more, listening to the whispers of Robb. _Be strong._

"One more, my Queen," The woman said ecstatically from between her knees. "I can see their little face, neck and shoulders!"

"I want you to push on my command," The Maester said firmly and after a few moments, he nodded. " _Push_. One last push."

 _If I have to do something with my final breath, let it be this_ , Boudicca thinks to herself and released a loud, piercing cry and pushed fiercely with all her might. She leant back, her elbows giving in and she collapsed into the softness of the furs and welcomed them as they warmly embraced her. Her ears were ringing loudly, her heart was beating fast and harsh and her eyes were blurred...until everything faded to darkness. Boudicca lay still, her tight grip on Davos's hand slackened, everything was silent...until she heard it.

 _A babe's cry._

It brought her back, the soft and squealing wails of a babe had brought her back from the brink of unconsciousness. Boudicca's bottom lip trembled at the sound of it and she felt tears fall from her eyes, letting out small sobs. A strange feeling coursed through her, making her fight back the tiredness she felt. In the Maester's arms was her babe, blood of her blood. The little bundle was wrapped in soft furs against the Maester's chest, he seemed to be checking over her child. Boudicca always felt that love, at first sight, was shite but when she heard the cries...the cries of her babe...

"Let me see," Boudicca demanded, her voice hoarse as a new found fierceness came over her. "Let me see my child!"

"Here," The Maester said simply, making his way towards her and handed her the bundle in her shaking arms. "Congrats, my Queen. You have birthed a boy, albeit small but he will grow."

Boudicca ignored the world then, the whole world fell silent to her then when she saw her babe's face and let small tears of happiness escape from her eyes. He was the most beautiful being she had ever laid her eyes on and he was small, so small. Boudicca removed the furs to inspect him fully and brought him up to her chest, letting him rest against her as she inspected the soft curls of burnt auburn hair and when she saw the eyes blearily open, she fell even further. _Green._ She furrowed her brows when she noticed that his right eye looked glazed over, it was not the green she inspected it to be rather it was dull. _I will ask later,_ Boudicca thought vaguely as she smiled down at her son who closed his eyes as quickly as he opened them.

"Hello, Ned," She breathed, rocking him gently as she stared at him. " _My little wolf._ "

* * *

Author's Note: Hey! I hope you like this chapter and the next update should be up soon. If you have any questions about this chapter or regarding Boudicca or anything else, feel free to ask. I would like to give massive thanks to everyone who has read this story, made it one of their favourites, followed this story and all left a review. All your reviews mean a lot to me.

Reviews-

ladyres: I know they did not deserve to die but in Boudicca's eyes all she saw was a Frey and the Frey's betrayed her. I knew adding this in a lot of people would not be okay with it but I had to show how her character has changed and how everything has affected her.

RHatch89: Thank you! I can say that Boudicca won't be kind to them at all.

tacomaster0928: Thank you! Boudicca will come to meet Daenerys in later chapters.

Guest: I hope you like this chapter!

jean d'arc: Thank you, I hope you like chapter thirty one! Yep, I made the Red Nameday in retaliation to the Red Wedding. I knew a lot of people would question the decision about Olyvar and Roslin but I felt in a way they did know what was to happen but remained silent about it. I know when I was reading the books and I came to the Lady Stoneheart reveal, I was devastated that she could not move on and would become this creature that has risen from the dead. Lady Stoneheart has parted ways with them but I can tell you that she will reappear in the future. Nope, the Lannister's have no clue what will hit them!

Guest 1: Thanks!

EMILCE CULLEN-VULTURI: Gracias!

ZabuzasGirl: Thank you, I hope you like this update!

celticank: Thank you! Unfortunately, it had to be done and I felt like their deaths would show how much the death of Robb and Myrcella had changed her. Robert, Robb and Myrcella were the three people in her life who could fully tame her but now that they are gone, no one can tame her. I will be including Jon in chapters very soon and since RLJ is canon, I will be including it.

xXBeautifullyRebelliousXx: Thank you! I can't wait to write about her massacring everyone else. I'm glad the letter gave you chills, I enjoyed writing it as for Cersei's letter, you will have to wait and see what it says.

birdy: I hope you like this update!

PotterxBreifsxUchihaxKiryuu: Thank you, it means so much to me that you think! I'm sorry that you shed a few tears but in a way that lets me know that parts I intend to be sad are. I hope you like this chapter and Jon will for definite be making an appearance very soon!

fallondyson: I hope you like chapter thirty one!

RiOtMak3r: Thank you, I'm glad you do and hopefully you like this update!

IceFlower: Thank you, I'm glad you liked these chapters and I cried when the Red Wedding happened too but I mostly pissed off because Lady Catelyn and Robb were among my favourite characters and then Grey Wind's death...As for Robb's head, it hasn't been found but the rest of his body (bones) will be taken to Winterfell so that he can be laid to rest.

Guest 3: Thank you! It was really satisfying to write, I always wondered where they put his body after they did that to him because we know that they threw Lady Catelyn in the river but it is never specified where they put his body.


	33. Chapter Thirty Two

_The Twins_

Boudicca Baratheon

Boudicca cradled little Ned in her arms, his head resting gently against her left breast while she listened to Tom Sevenstrings play the violin. Her pained eyes looked on at him as he pulled his bow across the strings, letting out a haunting sound. The mere sound of it made her heart ached as he played the Winter King on his violin. It brought tears to her eyes as she listened to the sorrowful song of House Stark that echoed in the halls of the Twins. Her eyes flickered down towards her sweet son's face and reached out and tenderly stroked his cheek with the back of her finger. It was a long, agonising wait before the Maester could inform her that her son would indeed live but her assumptions were right when he informed her that Ned was blind in one eye.

The day was tense as she prepared herself to face Lord Whitehill, who was arriving to discuss terms and treaties on behalf of House Bolton. Roose Bolton was residing in Dreadfort having been named Warden of the North and he has given his bastard son, Ramsay Snow, Winterfell. It left her seething with rage as Winterfell nor the North was rightfully theirs, it was Sansa's, it was Ned's and it was Arya's, wherever the girl may be. Winterfell belongs to House Stark and she would fight to free Winterfell from Bolton rule or she would die in the attempt.

"You look like a Queen," Davos remarked, causing her to look across to him, her trance broken.

Sansa had made Boudicca a long, black dress in her spare time and she had come to learn the auburn haired girl had been doing so for many moons. The black dress cinched her waist and showed her curved figure, although she had gained weight and lost some muscle due to the birth of her son. It was also embroidered with silver stags and wolves prancing and prowling at her feet to show that House Baratheon and House Stark still stand united, despite being few in number. The dress was laced nearer the top, which allowed her easier access to breastfeed her babe but other than that it was a simple yet elegant dress. It was the cloak she was most proud of. The furs around the neck of her long, black cloak were grey and reflected silver underneath the light. Boudicca's hair had been twirled and twisted into a complex braid, a crown of iron also adorned her head. It weighed heavier than it should, reminding her of _duty._

The _duty_ to her people. The _duty_ to her family. The _duty_ to her house. The _duty_ to the kingdoms.

"Tell me, what does the bastard want?" Boudicca asked, turning to face Davos. "I do not understand why he would send Lord Whitehill as his messenger? Is he not brave enough to face me?"

"It is rumoured that Lord Ramsay is seeking a bride. I do not know of him but by the stories I have heard he means to take Sansa as his wife," Ser Davos informs her, causing her to stiffen as she stares ahead to the doors, letting herself comprehend the news as she rocked Ned gently. "He has Theon Greyjoy in his hold, some men claim that they can hear the tortured and anguished screams of Theon from miles away."

"Lord? He is no Lord, Ser Davos," Boudicca scoffs, looking back to Ned and stroked his soft curls as he sleeps soundly. "He is a bastard, in more ways than one. He was born a bastard, he will live the life of being a bastard and he will die a bastard. House Bolton will soon come to be nothing once I have Roose Bolton's head on a pike and any living heir, high born or not that he has will follow shortly after him. I warned Lord Roose and he did not listen."

"Your Grace-" A voice spoke up, causing her to turn and look at Ser Barristan on her right. "I think he is a man you should fear."

"The Clash of Stags, that was my first battle which I won. I defeated my uncle Renly despite him having thrice my numbers. I survived the Red Wedding and I survived my pregnancy. I brought a storm to House Frey," Boudicca said, her voice low as she felt her hackles rise. "Where is House Frey?"

"Gone," Ser Barristan replied.

"A gentle word. I prefer extinct," She replies, staring ahead at the doors. "Tell me, why should I fear this bastard? What battles has this bastard won? What houses has he conquered? What betrayals has he faced and survived? I demand you name them and only then may I change my mind. All that bastard is known for is chasing the girls through the woods and having his dogs rip them apart, merely because he can and does not care for the consequences. A careless man is a condemned man. He is no man to fear. He is a _pathetic_ man. He cannot face a mere woman, instead, he sends one of his traitorous mutts to do it for him. If he had any balls at all, he would have ridden here himself and faced me."

"You do not know him, Boudicca," Ser Davos points out.

"Nor does he know me," Boudicca says, her eyes and voice growing cold.

The doors opened wide causing her to straighten and lean back into her chair, she looked ahead only to see Edric Dayne approach with haste. The boy she had appointed as her squire walked towards her, his light purple eyes trained on her face as he made a quick, stumbling bow before he stood up once more. His eyes looked panicked and terror struck, she could almost see tears in his eyes but she silently praised the boy for not letting them fall. He should not waste his tears on the likes of those shites.

"It's Lord Whitehill, Your Grace," Edric informed her. "He is at the gates. He commands to see you, Your Grace."

"I want him to wait or moment or so. He enters and leaves on _my_ command," Boudicca ordered, rocking Ned softly in her arms to prevent him from waking. "Did he threaten you, Edric?"

"H-He did...but it does not matter-"

"It does," She interrupts. "It is rather cold outside, I suppose we should let him in now."

Edric nodded his head and approached the doors to the hall but as he did so the doors to the hall burst open, revealing a large man with ash brown hair and mud coloured eyes that seemed too small for his sneering and wrinkled face. The man dressed in white armour had four soldiers at either side of him and they too were adorned in Whitehill armour. Boudicca's brow arched softly as she stared on at the man who approached her. She wondered what he would do to slight her again. He can insult her all he wished, it would fall on uncaring ears but she would not allow him to do so to her people.

"Queen Boudicca-" The man began, making his way towards her and the sneer remained settled on his face as he continued to talk and near her. "I believe a... _congratulations_ is in order for the birth of your child. My condolences though for your sister and husband. Although, I did not bend the knee to your husband. Robb nor Eddard Stark were allies of mine nor my house...House Stark has let House Forrester treat us like a chamber pot for years...my only regret is...that I wasn't able to drive my dagger into Robb Stark's heart myself."

"I suggest you mind your tongue, Lord Ludd Whitehill or I will mind it for you," Boudicca retorted fiercely, her eyes ablaze as she leant slightly forward in her chair. "Need I remind you what happened to the man that once sat upon the chair I sit on now? You will share the same fate as Walder Frey if you do not mind your tongue. Need I escort you outside and show you the bodies of the many traitors that hang outside of the Twins? Or did you dismiss them?"

"Aye, I saw them," Lord Whitehill said gruffly, his arms folding across his chest. "I take it you know why I am here?"

"I do," Boudicca says, her voice cold and her face impassive. "I have been waiting."

"Where is the bread and salt then?" Lord Whitehill snarls viciously, taking a step forward. Ser Barristan reaches for his sword but she holds her hand up to hold him back. Boudicca knew that by the way this man spoke and held himself that he was a tactician and he was attempting to both slight and rile her into action. This man did not want peace. This man wanted war. This man wanted House Forrester to grovel at his feet and he wanted Ironrath...but this man would get nothing...nothing but death. "What kind of bloody Queen are you? You expected me to stand in this hall when you do not offer me my Guest Right? You Baratheon's are all the same! I remember Lord Stannis once greeted me the same way you did...I should have expected as much! My mother told me about you Baratheon's, all of you don't fall far from the fucking tree!"

"I warned you to watch your tongue," She said calmly, bristling at the slight against her house and she could not help but insult him like he did her. "Your mother has talked about us? It's a shame, my mother _never_ talked about your sorts. It seems your mother has not taught you very much or was she dimwitted? You expected me to offer you the Guest Right when you have insulted my squire, insulted my house and name and stormed into the hall unannounced? If you think that I will offer you such a right, you jest."

"You bitch-" He hissed, causing her to raise an eyebrow. Ned squirmed in her arms, stirring from his sleep because of the man's roaring voice but she hushed him silent, her eyes remaining on the angered man. His breath quickened and his nostrils flared from anger. "Is that how you would talk to a man who wishes to declare peace rather than _war_? You should know your place woman! You Baratheon's and Stark's have ruled over us for years. Your family shit on us during the rebellion. They call you the Queen in the North, you aren't my Queen! You have no claim now that your husband is not around to protect you! We rule the North now! Not you!"

"You are speaking to Boudicca of the House Baratheon, First of Her Name. The Bringer of Storms and Queen of the North, Riverlands and the Stormlands," Ser Davos stated firmly, taking a step forward as he eyed Lord Whitehill carefully. "I think you should mind your tongue."

"You talk about the bitch as if she is some sort of God?" Lord Ludd sneers. "Did she part her thighs for you like she did Stark?"

"I don't believe in much but I believe in her and if that makes her my God, then so be it," Ser Davos snapped. "I have seen many people pray...it never works. It was not the prayers of the people that avenged the Red Wedding, it was Boudicca Baratheon. It was not the prayers that won the war against Renly, it was Boudicca Baratheon."

"You want to declare peace rather than war? You truly are a funny man, Lord Ludd," Boudicca chuckles, though her voice held no humour as she stared testily at him. "You waged war against House Forrester, an ally and banner house branched under both the House Stark and Baratheon. Ser Gregor of House Forrester, may the Seven give him peace, bent the knee to both Robb and I. Therefore, House Forrester is under my protection. Ramsay Snow killed the acting Lord Ethan and you have taken the young Ryon Forrester hostage. If you place the boy under my care, unharmed, I will forgive this slight."

"And if I don't?" Lord Whitehill challenges.

"I will wage war against your house and you will befall the same fate that House Frey met," She stated fiercely.

"I'm not handing Ryon Forrester over to the likes of you-" Lord Ludd spat angrily, his arms dropping to either side of his body and his hands formed into clenched fists. His entire body was shaking from rage when he looked to her but she remained unfazed, staring at him with the same coldness that he was already given. "...I might consider...if you hand over the Stark girl. If you do not, you will answer to Ramsay Bolton."

"I answer to no fucking bastard," Boudicca hissed, rising from her seat. "Run back to Ramsay _Snow_ like the wounded pig of a man that you are, send House Bolton a raven if you so wish and rally your troops. I want you to prepare for the storm, Lord Whitehill. I will do the same for I will not hand over Sansa. The lands I rule over are _free_ , including the people that reside within it. Sansa nor I hold no loyalties to you nor anyone else, especially a traitorous house like Bolton. There blades may indeed be sharp but their tact is not."

"You want war?" He roared, startling Ned from his sleep and he began to wail over Lord Whitehill's booming voice. " _I will give you a fucking war!_ "

"Very well, Ludd of House Whitehill. I trust you know your way out?" She inquired mockingly, sitting back down in her seat as she watched him eye her carefully before he turned around sharply on his heel and began to storm out of the hall with his soldiers trailing behind him. The soldiers gave her leering looks as they strolled behind him, the doors to the hall shut and the Twins were engulfed in a grey darkness once more as the doors slammed shut with a groaning thud.

"Hush," Boudicca murmured, running the back of her finger down Ned's face, trying to quieten down his cries. "It is alright...Ser Barristan, how many do they roughly have?"

"I cannot say for certain. If I could estimate, I would say that they have around twenty five thousand men fighting for them, give or take and that is not including the backing from House Bolton that they will get," Ser Barristan said gravely. "There is many Northern houses that have bent the knee to House Bolton after the death of Robb Stark. It was bend the knee or die. The North and the Riverlands are split. Most of the North is under Bolton rule while most of the Riverlands, including Riverrun, is under Lannister rule. Lord Brynden and Lord Edmure are currently making many attempts at reclaiming Riverrun. Although, all of the Stormlords have answered to your call...if Lord Whitehill plans to wage war on you within the next few days...most of your army will not make it in time."

"The houses that decided to side with House Bolton can hang," A voice spoke fiercely, causing her to look up from Ned to face Sansa who entered the hall, her hands clasped against her lap as she made her way towards them. The fierceness in the girl's voice surprised her greatly, causing her brows to raise almost immediately. "How many fighting men do we have Boudicca?"

"We currently have sixteen thousand residing here," Boudicca answered. "It does not matter how much numbers we have at the Twins. They hold most of the cavalry, I sent most of our cavalry to reclaim Riverrun. I have over fifty thousand men awaiting my command in the Stormlands, some are already here but although everyone in the Stormland's answered my call, they cannot travel to the Twins in time. I cannot take the troops I have sent to Riverrun away from Lord Brynden and Lord Edmure as they desperately need them in order to fully reclaim Riverrun and to drive the remainder of the Lannister army out of the Riverlands. You nor Ned can stay here. I will be sending you, my son and my brother to the Vale."

"Why?" Sansa demands.

"Protection," Boudicca sighs, her voice grim as she stands up and makes her way towards Sansa, taking in how similarly dressed they both were and cradles her son in her arms. "The Twins will no doubt be put under attack and if they lay siege to it...I cannot let anything hold me back. _Anything._ I do not want you, my brother nor my child getting hurt. If you got hurt...Robb would skin me alive if I put you or our son in danger. If I am to fight this battle, I need you safe."

"No, I won't leave you," Sansa says fiercely, she could see tears welling up in the girl's eyes but she blinks them away. "I can't. You're all I have left."

"And _you_ are all I have left," She informs the Stark girl before she finds tears welling up in her own eyes as she looks down at her son who was settled in her arms. Her eyes looked from Sansa to Ned before she slowly reaches out and hands him over to the blue eyed girl despite him squirming and reaching for her. Boudicca places him Sansa's gently and ladylike hold. "By sundown...you, my brother and my son will be riding for the Vale with Ser Barristan. I will not allow you to be harmed. I...I want you to p-protect my boy, Sansa."

"I-I will..." Sansa trailed off, tears unwillingly sliding down her pale face as she nods. "I swear I will."

"Promise me, Sansa," Boudicca said sharply, unable to look away from her child's face as her heart begins to ache. "You m-must promise me."

"I promise, Boudicca," The girl says firmly, her voice crackling. "I promise."

"Ser Barristan-" Boudicca croaks, keeping her eyes downcast and never leaving her child. It hurt so much but she must. It was a sacrifice and if she must part with them to keep them safe, it was a sacrifice she was willing to make. For them." I want you to prepare the Queen's Guard and I want them to ride with you to the Vale. Sansa, Ned and Tommen are under your protection now. Also, I want you to take Clara...she is a wet nurse, is she not? T-Take care of my boy, please..."

"Yes, Your Grace. I will protect them with my life," Ser Barristan said, his voice soft as he makes his way down the steps and leaves the cold and heartless hall, that was filled with pain.

Boudicca nears Sansa and looks down to her son, his face becomes wet from the tears he has shed along with her own. She reaches out with a shaking hand and wipes the wetness away from his pale face with the back of her hand, his green-blue eye remained on her face and the blank face she held crumbles into one of pain as she stares at little Ned. Boudicca strokes his soft face with the finger nearest her thumb and lets it trail to his small nose where she tickled it softly.

"I love you so much," She murmurs, placing a kiss on his forehead. Ned squirms in Sansa's hold, staring intently at her and makes gurgling noises as he attempts to reach her. "I will love until the end of time, my sweet wolf. A time will come and we will meet again, I promise. You and I, we will be together again soon I promise. You, Sansa, Tommen and I will retake Winterfell and the North back from House Bolton. Sansa, if I die...I want you to look after him...I want you to teach him our ways, I-"

"Enough," Sansa interrupted firmly, at this point, she looked like Lady Catelyn with her face stern and strong. "You will not die."

"If I do, Sansa..." Boudicca begins, her voice growing hoarse. "Take care of Ned for me."

"I-I...I will, Boudicca. You do not even have to ask that of me," Sansa tells her, causing her to reach over and press a kiss to the girl's tear stained face.

"Thank you," She murmurs.

Boudicca watched with tears falling down her face as Sansa left with Ned, his cries picked up and echoed hauntingly in her ears. The violin that Tom Sevenstrings had been playing was soon the only noise she heard other than her knees collapsing onto the stone ground as her ankles buckled. Boudicca began to weep, covering her hands over her face so that no one, not even an empty hall could encounter her tears. All she could do was think of her son. On Ned. If she died...she would never experience him growing up and a painful thought hit her.

 _How long will the battle for the North take? Days. Weeks. Months. Years..._

Boudicca could not bear the pain of it, the mere thought of her son being raised and brought up in the Eyrie despite it being the safest place for him as of this moment. She began to imagine after perhaps several years or so after battling for the North and Riverlands...riding up to the Vale to finally meet her son only to be met with a boy who may be her son but is a stranger to her and in turn, she would be a stranger to him. All he would see is a woman, he would not see her as his mother.

Boudicca thinks of her son, slightly older perhaps around Tommen's age, looking at her as if to say. _Who are you?_ And then he turns to Sansa instead, seeking her warm embrace and calling her 'mother' instead. The thought of her son never knowing truly where he came from or who he is broke her. Her son already lost his father, would he lose her too? _Robb,_ she thought with a heavy moan as she tried to rise to her feet once more but her entire body was heavy. _Why did you have to die? Why did you leave me alone in this world?_

 _I may never hear his first bout of laughter, I may never hear his first words or witness his first steps. I may never see the way his eyes shine in excitement or the way he may tilt his head in curiosity,_ Boudicca thinks to herself as she tries to stop the tears falling. _I may never hear him angry, I may never hear him sad and I will_ never _get to see him with his father._ Boudicca felt two familiar hands being placed on her shoulders and she looks up from her hands to see Ser Davos kneeling down beside her, his face still looked firm but held a gentleness. That look was all it took before she flings her arms around his neck and buries her face into the furs of his cloak.

"I will kill them...all of them..." Boudicca trails, staring ahead at the black stag above the high table.

"You will," Ser Davos agrees. "In time."

* * *

Boudicca was glad she never got to say goodbye as she stares out of her window towards the ground that was covered in shadows that were created from the trees above that seemed to hide the dusk sky. Boudicca saw several soldiers mounting their horses until her eyes landed on a girl with a hood pulled over her face and a bundle wrapped in her arms.

 _Sansa_ , she remarked to herself. Her face was cold and impassive as she stared on, watching the soldiers prepare for the long and harrowing journey to the Vale. The cries of her little brother could still be heard as she caught a glimpse of Ser Barristan helping him onto his horse. Boudicca watched Sansa carefully, noticing the girl had stilled and she raised a brow as to why Sansa did not mount her horse.

The girl pulled her dark hood that was lined with fur back slightly and blue met green, she was taken aback at first, thinking she was staring at Robb but she blinked back her unshed tears that had caused her eyes to blur and she saw Sansa once more. Boudicca placed her hand on the window, giving the girl a gentle nod. _Protect him for me._

Sansa returned her nod before pulling her hood back once more and mounted her horse with Ser Barristan's help as she cradled Ned in her arms. Boudicca watched in silence, the only sound was the soft crackling of the fire and the rain that was gently hitting the windows as she saw them leave, their horses moving in a steady gallop and she continued to stare until she no longer seen them as they disappeared into the dark and dense woods.

"I will kill you for this," Boudicca swore, the Gods were the only witness to her promise in her still chambers. "I do not know how I will come to kill you yet but all good things come to those who wait and I can wait for a _very_ long time until the times comes when I can kill you. A day will soon come when you are victorious, prideful and higher above all the rest when you think you have won...but I will bring a storm and I will destroy you. You will slowly die in a bed of ashes and blood and with that, you will know that the debt has been paid."

Boudicca approached her table and took a seat in her chair, she gazed at the burning candle light and noticed that it did not match the rage she felt. She gripped the quill tightly in her left hand and dipped it into the black ink pot, swirling the quill around to get ink. Boudicca kept her eyes on the candle as it flickered, casting light on the table before she looked down at the piece of parchment and began to write slowly. The only noise that was heard in her chambers was her quill scratching against the parchment.

 _To the Bastard of Bolton,_

 _You sent one of your mutts to face me and I do not like what he had to say. All bark and no bite.I assume that you  
will be different when we meet. Look at where your mutt has gotten us, we are now preparing for war. I suggest you  
eat hearty and drink plenty, for your first battle may be your last. I intend to take back Winterfell and I intend for my  
son to one day rule the North, unfortunately, you are in my way of getting what I want. Your father will be flayed and  
hanged after I am done with House Whitehill and you will follow soon after. I am sorry to say but Sansa rejects your  
betrothal proposition._

 _I will show you how I deal with traitors. Your name, your house and your words will soon be nothing. I promised your  
father that I would take his lands, his titles, his family and his life. I intend to take you as well and how sweet it will be  
when I bathe in your blood.  
Sleep well,  
Boudicca of the House Baratheon, First of Her Name and Protector of the North._

* * *

Author's Note: Hey, I hope you liked this chapter! If you have any questions, regarding Boudicca or a part of the chapter, feel free to ask. I would like to thank all of you who have read this story, who have followed it and made it one of their favourites. I would also like to give massive thanks to those of you who have reviewed, it means a lot to me and I enjoy receiving each of your reviews. The next update should be up soon and let me know what you think of Boudicca developing as a character, is there a part you like? Is there a part you don't like? Let me know!

Reviews-

ZabuzasGirl: Thank you! I hope you like this chapter, I kind of like ruining Boudicca's happiness but she had to send Ned, Sansa and Tommen away for safety.

tacomaster0928: Yep! chapter thirty one is one of my favourite chapters that I have written and I hope you like chapter thirty two!

RHatch89: Thank you!

birdy: Thanks, I hope you like this chapter!

celticank: Thank you! I always knew that I would have her name the baby Ned.

sankhadeep dutta: Jon's storyline will be canonical and there will be mentioning of Jon and the Wall very soon! Jon will play a major role in Daenerys invasion of Westeros and in this story, Boudicca will play a role because of Boudicca vs Daenerys. Boudicca wants the North, the Riverlands and the Stormlands to be free kingdoms once more while Daenerys wants all the Seven Kingdoms.

sassygirl9811: Yeah, he is going to be blind in one eye.

PotterxBreifsxUchihaxKiryuu: Thank you, I am so glad and relieved that you think so. I hope you like this chapter and Jon will be mentioned and will soon appear in the next few chapters!

EMILCE CULLEN-VULTURE: Sí, por desgracia Ned va a ser ciego de un ojo.

Guest: I haven't got an ending set in mind yet but I do have any idea like that in mind for the ending.

fallondyson: I hope you like this update!

eloise: Thank you so much, I am really glad you think so and I hope you like this chapter!


	34. Chapter Thirty Three

_The Twins_

Boudicca Baratheon

" _You are in the presence of Queen Boudicca of the House Baratheon, First of Her-_ "

"I know who she is."

Boudicca leant back in her seat, placing her arms on the wooden armrests with an amused expression on her face as she stared down at the small, dark haired girl. Boudicca had been awakened from her slumber by a runner saying that House Mormont had arrived to speak with her. She had not bothered to dress, knowing that it was a matter of importance to make haste and got to the hall, wearing nothing but a white nightgown and a black fur cloak. Now, here she sat in her nightgown, staring down at a small girl next to armoured men, wrapped in heavy furs with a serious expression on her face while she stared at her. The small, dark eyed girl held herself higher than any man in the entirety of the hall. This girl had more balls than any man in this hall.

"Lady Lyanna," Boudicca addressed.

"Queen Boudicca," Lyanna nodded.

"I see you have taken after your mother then-" Boudicca complimented, leaning forward in her seat. "Your mother was a warrior, was she not?"

"Aye, my mother was a warrior!" Lady Lyanna confirmed fiercely, causing her eyebrows to raise. "A great one!"

"Why have you come here, Lady Lyanna?" Boudicca asked. _It is not safe,_ she had wanted to say but held her tongue. _We could all die by tomorrow._

"You need reinforcements do you not?" The girl inquires which Boudicca gave a curt nod to. "I am giving you reinforcements. You plan on going to war with House Whitehill, are you not? I have heard rather conflicting reports about it and about _you._ I have heard rumours that you intend to take the North back from the Bolton's while others say you want to free the North entirely from Westeros. If it's true, I want to be a part of making it free. I have had enough of foreign men from foreign lands asking me and my house to bend the knee to them. I bow to no one, no one except those who bear the name _Stark_."

"I am not a Stark," Boudicca said solemnly, trying to hide the pain in her voice. "I am a Stark no longer."

"No," The dark haired girl agreed, peering up at her. "You were married to a Stark though and your son is a Stark, your son is Robb Stark's. He has _Stark_ blood. He is Ned Stark. The blood of the First Men, it flows through his veins as it does mine. As it does every other Northerner. You are no different. You have storm blood and a storm is a part of winter. What do you fight for Boudicca Baratheon? I want to know."

"I fight for _us._ I fight for the old and young. I fight for both the high and low born. I fight for _our_ freedom. I fight for the North, Stormlands and the Riverlands," Boudicca states, rising from her seat and made her way down the steps and approaches the girl as she continues. "I fight to avenge the North. The same fate will befall the traitors like it did House Frey. They will come to know the true meaning of winter when we are done with them. I swear to you, on your very name and on the same wild blood that runs through our veins that now I am Queen, I will do everything that I can to make the North _free_. From Bolton rule. From Lannister rule. From King's Landing rule. From Westerosi rule. We will bow to no lions, we will bow to no flayed men or dragons...we bow to nothing except the name _Stark._ The name that Ned, Sansa and Arya share."

"That is what I wanted to hear," The small girl responds after a long tense silence before she looks up at her once more. "I do know that we will face many wars in trying to rid ourselves of the Bolton's. We will start with House Whitehill though. If you swear to me that the North, including House Mormont, will be free from Bolton and Lannister reign...then I will give you my men. My men are the best of the best and we have rarely lost to any enemy."

"How many men have you brought with you, my Lady?" Ser Davos questions.

"Sixty two," Lyanna answers proudly and fiercely, their gaze remaining unflinching as they stared at each other. "I have sixty two _good_ fighting men. House Mormont may not be a large house or a dying one like your house is but our men are fierce at heart as they are on the battlefield, they have more strength than twenty of your good fighting men."

"If they are fierce as you, my Lady," Ser Davos began, causing a smile to form on her lips. "The North will be freed in no time."

The girl gave them a curt nod and she saw a shadow of a smile playing on her face. Boudicca walked towards the girl and stood in front of her, staring down at her with a strange pride swelling in her chest. She held out her hand out for the girl, the girl looked at her face for a moment and it seemed as if she was inspecting all of her features before she extended out her own lithe arm and they clasped each other's arms, giving each other a firm shake.

"Why?" Boudicca inquired, confusion making its way onto her features. "A lot of your men could be killed. We do not have the numbers."

"You have fought at worse odds and won, did you not?" Lyanna pointed out. "The Clash of Stags. The Red Nameday."

"Aye. I fought alongside your mother that day when I was to fight Renly and she was also in the war council," Boudicca states. "It is only right that I hand over her title to you."

"I don't care for some boy King in King's Landing. Or some Bolton. I care for my Queen and Prince, though," Lyanna said as she stood before her with a fierce and feral look in her eye. "I travelled here for _you._ I have offered my men to _you_. You will set the North free or I will do it myself!"

The young girl released the grip she had on her arm and did something unexpected, causing her eyes to widen as she watched the girl kneel before her, the fellow Mormont men followed after their Lady. All looking to her, to the woman they think will liberate the North. To the woman they think will make the North an independent kingdom. To the woman, they think will free them. Boudicca held an awed yet pained look on her face as she looked over Lyanna and the Mormont's. Lady Lyanna stood once more, their eyes never leaving each other and at this point, she found Lyanna's stare unnerving.

"The North remembers and I do too!" Lady Lyanna shouted, her small and strong voice echoing throughout the hall. "For the Warrior Queen!"

The girl seemed to be taller than any man then, that she was certain and Boudicca felt as if the girl was even taller than she was. The Mormont army mirrored the girl's actions and stood up, their roaring mantra of _Warrior Queen_ filled the cold and tense air. Boudicca felt both shocked and touched by the mere gesture, lifting her arm in the air and soon found herself joining in their chants. She turned and faced Ser Davos, who was chanting too with a proud look on his face.

"For the North!" Boudicca yelled.

" _For the North!"_ They replied back, clashing shield against sword and sword against shield.

"The North Remembers!" She roaring once more, sounding like more of a wolf than stag or lion.

" _The North Remembers!"_

* * *

Boudicca sat at a table with her war council, she had witnessed dawn but she was witnessing dusk once more as the day was turning to night. It was a cold night and the dark skies were stormy. Her thoughts were lost with her babe, with her little Ned and she wondered desperately if they were safe, she knew that no word would be brought to her until they were at the Vale for their safety and for her own peace of mind. Boudicca knew her brother had trouble with change and with adapting to new environments, so she knew that he would not fare well in the Vale.

Yet her mind was brought back to her babe. Boudicca wanted nothing more than to hear the sound of his laughter, that was the only sound she wanted to hear as of this moment but she knew that she would not get such pleasure and to know that someone else would hear his laughter first or see him smile began to make her heart ache. As of this moment, a woman other than herself is nursing her babe and she could feel the consequences of not being able to nurse him herself as her breasts were aching and heavy with every breath she had to take.

Boudicca watched on as her war council ate, she turned her attention to Lady Lyanna who was eating a bowl of porridge. She had no appetite, no matter how good the food looked or smelled, the only appetite she had was one for battle and she knew it would never be quenched. Boudicca listened carefully while together they all ate, drank and talked amongst themselves about the battle plan they would have for House Whitehill, who would be at their gates by dawn and she considered if it would be best to wait them out in the hall or meet them on the battlefield.

"House Whitehill has a small army," Ser Davos began. "There numbers are nearer ours but I know that House Bolton will send their entire army against us."

"I think that the Whitehill's will have more cavalry, like with the Clash of Stags," Lady Lyanna agreed. "The horses will shake the ground beneath our feet."

A coldness consumed her at such a thought, Boudicca had managed her own against her uncle Renly but only by the skin of her teeth, when it came to life or death, she chose life and ran him through with her sword before he did it to her. Boudicca knew that her family would have been killed had she not killed her uncle. And as for her army, she had already lost a heavy amount of numbers due to the Clash of Stags and the Red Wedding and Nameday. By death or by choice. _The traitors,_ she thinks to herself. _I will have all their skin._

"We have little horses and little men," Lord Glover stated. "What will we do?"

"The backing of the Stormlands and the Riverlands cannot arrive by the time the Whitehill's arrive," Lord Manderly informed her. "We will be done for."

"Retreat," Lord Penrose tells them. "It's our best chance at survival. If we want to live, give them what they want."

"Fuck survival!" Lord Umber spits, his eyes ablaze as he slams his fist down on the table. "I will either die slain in war or die of old age."

"I'm not bloody retreating!" Greatjon Umber roars. "I'm no coward! What do you take me for?"

"No..." Boudicca finally spoke up, after her long period of silence and turned to face her war council. "If they are to face us, we must be prepared. I want the strongest men and women we have to get to work on trenches. I want them deep and once they are finished, I want them set alight. If they have more cavalry like you say, it will frighten the horses when they charge for us and perhaps set them back further, allowing us more time. And we will make spears-"

"Spears?" Lyanna asked, tilting her head to the side in curiosity.

" _Spears_ ," Boudicca confirmed hoarsely, rising from her seat and looked down at the map of the Twins and the surrounding woods and rivers. She placed her finger harshly on the river and took a wooden bear marker and placed it nearby the dark blue line. "Lady Lyanna, I want you and your sixty two fierce men to remain hidden. Tom Sevenstrings will sound a horn when the Whitehill's arrive and you will ride for them, hopefully, able to attack them from behind with Lord Errol, Manderly and Hornwood. Your houses hold most of what little cavalry we have. To charge at them will lead them towards the river where most will either drown with their horses or scramble to the Twins themselves where we will be waiting. We must be careful, they may want to bargain the little Lord Ryon."

"Aye!" Lord Umber boomed, slamming his fist on the table once more and this time the ferocity of it knocked over his ale. She watched in amusement as it spilt onto the floor but he seemed to rile up at the thought of a battle to care, he received many roars and cries of agreement. "We will strike them! They won't stand a chance! To the Warrior Queen!"

" _The Warrior Queen!"_

Boudicca let a smile slowly appear on her face as the chants from the war table became louder and soon the chants were heard from outside the Twins. All of them sang into the dark night of a warrior, a warrior who would free the North. No matter what it takes she would get what she wants. _Vengeance,_ she thought. _Freedom._ Her smile faltered when she thought on her enemies. To kill Walder Frey, one of the many men who took part in the betrayal of Robb...it should have felt like a victory. Boudicca had saved hostages, liberated a part of the Riverlands and had slain one of the men who had killed her husband.

All she felt was a sense of incompleteness.

House Frey along with the Late Lord Walder was a start. There was still more houses, more men, more who she would see die before the war over. Boudicca had a list, a list of many names of the people she would see to killing herself, she would personally send them to the deepest part of the Hells even if she had to drag them down with her. Boudicca wanted to see the look in their eye, she wanted to see the look they had when they knew it was all over.

 _Roose Bolton. Rolph Spicer. Ramsay Snow. Ludd Whitehill. Theon Greyjoy. Joffrey Baratheon. The Mountain. Tywin Lannister. Jaime Lannister. Petyr Baelish...Cersei Lannister_. Boudicca would ensure that they would all die, even if took the rest of her life, even if it took her until she was old as Walder Frey...she would have her vengeance.

With iron and ice. With steel and blood.

 _I will bring winter to them all,_ Boudicca thought impassively as the chanting died down. _I will bring a storm to them. They better batten down their hatches for it will be a long one._

"Leave us," Boudicca commands, her eyes remaining on Ser Davos. "I wish to speak to Ser Davos alone."

Boudicca watches as her war council piles out of the Twins, Lord Umber pats her back roughly before he moves on until she is left alone in a silent hall with Ser Davos, staring down at the map. She inhales sharply, placing the palms of her hand on the table while she takes in her battle plan that had taken hours to discuss but this time she was making a dangerous move, a risky move that cost the lives of her men. Boudicca would make the first move. She picked up the stag figurine and held it with nimble fingers as she stared at it intently, taking in the intricate detail of carving.

"You know your enemy. You have your army," Ser Davos says. "You have your people backing you. You have your battle plans."

"Battle plans," She scoffs. "What good will our battle plans be if they attack us from another direction? What good will our battle plans be if they have Lord Ryon with them?"

"We do not know him nor his ways. We do not know how he thinks," He told her. "What if this is a trap? If it is we are falling right into it."

"The man has no tact," Boudicca replies. "All he knows is battle and blood. I am far better than him at playing the game, I have played it all my life."

* * *

Author's Note: Hey, I hope you like this chapter. It's a bit shorter than the usual chapters but there will be a long battle coming up in the next chapter. It will be Boudicca versus House Whitehill. I would like to thank all of you for reading this story, for making it one of your favourites and for following it. I would also like to give massive thanks to everyone that has reviewed, it means a lot to me. If you have any questions feel free to ask!

Reviews-

ZabuzasGirl: Thank you, hopefully, you like this chapter!

xXBeautifullyRebelliousXx: Thank you! I hope you like chapter thirty three, another battle will be coming up in the next chapter.

celticank: In Boudicca's way of thinking, Lysa Arryn is Sansa's aunt and Ned's great aunt and she is also a Tully along with being the wife of Jon Arryn, who taught Boudicca as a child so, in a way, she trusts the woman but doesn't know that she is insane. The Vale is the safest place she can send them. She can't send them to Riverrun, Winterfell or keep them at Twins so she sends them to the only safe place for them, the Vale. There will be something involving Ned, Sansa and Lysa in the next few chapters. Arya is alive, she is just following her canon line.

Alice: Gracias!

birdy: In chapter thirty four there will be a massive battle, so everyone will get to see the Warrior Queen in action once more!

chm01: Unfortunately, she will have a long, tiring and bloody fight ahead of her and will lose a lot more people.

RHatch89: You can expect a battle between them both soon!

Harrypotterwannabe00: Thank you!


	35. Chapter Thirty Four

_The Twins_

Boudicca Baratheon

 _They see no woman._

As she rode from the hall of the Twins on her black mare and onto the field that would be held for battle, she knew that this was what her men thought of her. They no longer could see the woman she once was. Her hair was braided and piled at the top of her head, showing off her face which had three long streaks of crimson red running down it, covering each scar she had received to her face and her green eyes were dark and impassive. The land was mostly marshland, so she wore light armour consisting of her favoured black breastplate decorated with a silver stag and a wolf and chain mail that made her entire body feel heavy and stiff. The cloak she wore was black and grey with heavy furs adorning her shoulders.

The nature of the battle would be a bloody one and she armed herself with a large war hammer. It was secured to her back and was within her grasp, her short sword was belted on her right hip and a dagger on her left. Her rounded iron shield was secured to her saddle and she held a spear in her left hand, grasping the reins in her right as she eased the horse into a slow trot. Boudicca had adorned herself in layers of steel until she no longer saw herself, she saw a warrior staring back at her.

Boudicca held her head high, staring ahead as she rode through her army, the soldiers in her army were parting before her although she caught some of them bowing or kneeling as she passed them. A few small folk had arrived upon hearing of the fight between her and the Whitehill's, demanding that they could get a part in the fight. She could hear the whispers about her as it dawned on them who and what she was and she could not help but feel amused at some of their stories.

" _That can't be her. It isn't her, is it?"_ A voice whispered harshly. " _I reckoned she would've been taller than that."_

 _"Taller? I thought she was meant to have the eyes of a cat. Yellow and narrowed,"_ Another replied. " _She has wildfire eyes."_

" _The Warrior,"_ A man murmured to them as she rode past them, casting a glance to them as she did so. " _Unlike the other Gods, she holds his favour. The Mother and Maiden have shunned her for Kinslaying. The Father cast his judgement on her long ago. The only mercy she will receive is from the Warrior and the Stranger."_

Boudicca lifted a brow lightly at that admission, she certainly had not heard of that one before. _The Butcher of Frey,_ she thought with furrowing brows. People had hailed her many names after that day, the day she took the life of Late Lord Walder and conquered the Twins. Like grandfather, like granddaughter. _The Baratheon Stag and the Stark Direwolf fly high above the Twins as do the bodies of those who betrayed me,_ Boudicca thinks coldly to herself as she rides out to the front of her army and came to a stop in front of her war council.

"This will be a fine fight!" Greatjon Umber boomed, steadying his horse as he and his men prepared to ride for the woods. "I can almost taste the blood in the air!"

"If the Gods are just-" Tom Sevenstrings began, attaching a cream horn to his leather brown belt. "We will taste victory instead of defeat."

"Fuck the Gods," Mors Umber spits. "The Gods do not decide what we live for or what we will die to defend."

"I give you my thanks, my Lords," Boudicca addresses with a firm nod and grasped her spear tighter in her hand, digging her nails into the wood.

Boudicca diverted her horse and began riding slowly down the front line of her army, who all held their spears high. She looked to her left and saw that the fires lit by Lord Glover in the distance, were burning fiercely causing her to nod in approval. Boudicca turned back to face her entire army, her unflinching and unforgiving gaze on them as she took in each face, discovering an array of emotions. Some of her men had blood lust, others were frightened while most were on edge.

"Those _demons_ have taken over your lands, our lands! They have murdered your brethren, slaughtered your wives and children and have destroyed your homes!" Boudicca stated, her voice low but she grew fiercer as the wind picked up, her voice was growing louder with each word she spoke to them. "They have feasted on our flesh long enough! They have feasted on our blood long enough...today, today they shall drown in their own! We shall bring a storm to them! We will never forget what they have done to us!"

" _The North remembers!"_

Boudicca nodded at their roars and raised her spear high in the air, a ferocity consuming her as she stared on at her army as they roared at her. She was filled with a hunger...an urge to have blood covering her blade and sweat to bead along her forehead and dampen her hair, to have her entire body be covered in both blood and mud. More roars erupted then, various weapons and shields thrust into the air as they stamp their feet and their spears were heard, creating thunder on the ground.

"House Baratheon remembers-" Boudicca seethed. "House Stark remembers! And we will _never_ forgive nor forget! I can promise that..."

"She wolf! She wolf! She wolf!" They chanted.

A small smile made its way onto her face and she turned her horse again, the wind carrying their feral cries. Her heart was racing in her chest, looking ahead to where the Whitehill army would march for them. By the unsettled horses, she knew that House Whitehill would be arriving soon. _The sooner the better,_ Boudicca thinks to herself as she lets her eyes flutter close and listens to the mantra of her name. It was her name and titles they cried. It was not Eddard Stark's. It was not Robb's. It was her that the Northerners cried for. Boudicca lets go of the reins and held the spear in both hands, holding it high in the air above her head.

"For the North!" Boudicca roared.

" _For the North!_ "

"The North remembers!" She screamed.

" _The North remembers!"_

* * *

The world stood still and silent when House Whitehill arrived at midday and Boudicca had long since dismounted her horse and turned to face the open field with the Twins behind her and her army backing her, readying for the battle to come. She saw the Whitehill sigil appearing overhead as the Whitehill's army made their way towards them. She stood next to Ser Davos and Ser Harwin, eyeing the white soldiers in disdain as she saw men in their thousands appearing, marching for them. Boudicca swallowed and tried to rid herself of the lump in her dry throat when she saw Lord Whitehill come into view, a back a massive stallion and adorned heavily in armour with his long sword drawn and ready.

"That was a fine speech, my Queen," Ser Davos tells her. "You have inspired them."

"Have I inspired you as well, my Onion Knight?" Boudicca asks, a teasing but soft smile on her lips.

"I would say so," Ser Davos responds with a firm and a barely visible smile on his face. "You always have done."

She looks to her horse, stroking her mane softly as she undoes the leather ties that held her shield to the saddle and once she places her shield onto the ground, she claps the mare's back and sends the horse running, watching as it gallops off into the woods, she hopes the horse will find its way to Greatjon to signal him that the Whitehill's had arrived before Tom Sevenstrings had to blow his horn. A lot of the men who had horses followed suit and soon enough, they were all standing with nothing but a shield, a weapon and a spear.

It remained silent for a moment or so before Boudicca grasped her spear with two hands and lifted it high into the air and wildly screamed, her feral screaming echoing throughout the tense silence. It seemed to startle the army ahead of them. The rest of her army followed shortly after her. A few could be heard throwing insults and curses towards the army of House Whitehill but most let out vicious snarls and screams that sounded like a pack of wolves defending their territory. Their home. _Which it is,_ Boudicca thought to herself.

Boudicca then bent down and picked up her shield and began to batter it harshly against her spear, the thunder to the lightning of the screams. Ser Davos followed after her doing the same and soon the entire army was pounding their weapons or spears against their shields or they stomped their feet, shaking the land beneath her feet. She heard Lord Whitehill roar, pointing his sword high in the air as he faced her while addressing his army. Boudicca noticed Ser Harwin step forward and stood further in front of her and the army, she shared a confused look with Ser Davos before her eyes widened in astonishment when he undid his belt and began to piss on the ground, receiving many cheers from the men behind her but she could hear the hissing of the riled up Whitehill army as they began to move closer, trying to make their way around the trenches with fire dancing wildly.

Ser Harwin redid his belt and assumed his position back at her side when the white army parted and she saw arches storm towards where the burning trenches were. Boudicca slowly brought her heavy shield up as they drew back their arrows and then let them loose on Ludd Whitehill's command. The amusement fell from the faces of her army then and it became a panic to reach for their shield in time. Boudicca looked up towards the grey sky and saw the arrows sore through the air.

They all knelt and held their shields up to their bodies, letting the arrows unwillingly rain down on them. The arrows hit men and shield alike, causing her to grimace when she heard a few screams from her men. She looked around vigorously and saw with a relieved sigh that Ser Davos was not hit and was instead hiding under his large shield like she was. Though most of the arrows had not found their mark and did not manage to pierce flesh, it still was disturbing to hear the arrows hit against the shields before dropping to the ground. Her eyes met with Tom Sevenstrings and he gifted her a wink before they resumed their standing positions once more.

Boudicca had noticed the sudden movement of the Whitehill army and saw that the archers were moving aside to make way for the hundreds of men upon horses ride past them, her eyes widened at this and she muttered under her breath, counting each and every man on a horse until she lost count. She heard the distant roaring of Ludd Whitehill and the cavalry began to make their way past the trenches. It was proving to be difficult and had slowed most of them down but some of them were able to make it and began to charge towards them, undeterred. Boudicca closed her eyes, inhaling deeply as she listened to both men and horse alike fall into the fire. Her eyes reopened and she saw that those who did make it were heading towards them, their horses that were in a steady trot began to run at them in a fast gallop as they charged for them with their weapons drawn. She felt the tension and saw most of her army shift as they awaited her command.

"Steady-" Boudicca ordered firmly, her eyes trained on the men as they grew closer. "Steady!"

Her brow was beaded with sweat and she noticed the men around her staring at her in discomfort. Her heart was racing hard in her chest and she wondered briefly if it would explode like wildfire if it was somehow ignited. The ground, like Lady Lyanna Mormont promised, was truly thunder beneath her feet as the ground shook violently. The cavalry was approaching nearer and quicker. Boudicca held her breath and inhaled deeply before she shouted a single command that would bring the cavalry down.

" _Now!_ " Boudicca roared.

She kneeled on the ground and grasped her spear, pointing it upwards as the other men around her followed hurriedly after her. The horses and their riders were impaled on the sharpened points of the spears after they collided harshly with her and her army, knocking her and many of them back by the strength of them falling against them. The clash was terrible, both blood and mud consuming her as men and horse alike screamed. Boudicca let her spear drop to the ground and dodged a man that flew from his horse and landed next to her feet, she reached up and gripped her war hammer and withdrew it, pointing it upwards to the sky and let out a fierce battle cry.

Boudicca spun around quickly and brought down her war hammer on a white armoured soldier that was lying on the ground, struggling to get to his feet. The man tossed his head back and let out a gargled scream as she landed a heavy blow to the bottom of his back. She pulled the wrenched the sharpened point of her hammer free from the man before turning to face another enemy. Boudicca gave a nod to Tom Sevenstrings, who brought the horn to his lips and it let out a deafening screech. Her men began to turn and charge towards the remaining Whitehill army. She noticed Mors Umber emerge from the trees with a few hundred of his men and ran into the bloodshed, letting out loud roars.

It felt as if time itself had almost slowed down for her and from then on, it became nothing more than a hunt for her. The ground was soon covered in blood along with her body and the large puddles of water turned red, the marshlands were covered in bodies of both the dying and the wounded were scattered across the field. The moment the spears met the men and the horses, the dead bodies that piled up created a small hill of sorts. Boudicca came to find herself battling with a muscled Whitehill soldier, deflecting his blows before she attacked him fiercely. She had forgotten every lesson that Ser Barristan had taught her and began to attack everything and everyone like some sort of feral animal.

Boudicca hit him with her shield, knocking him a few steps back and when he was recovering from the heavy blow, she swung her hammer and jumped the man, landing a final blow to his face. He had no time to scream nor deflect her move as she had already moved on from him to battle another. It made her doubt the existence of the Gods when she heard men cry out for mercy, for help or for their mothers and even for the Gods but no help would come to them. Boudicca shook her head before she moved on, stepping over the dead and wounded as she made her way towards the bloodshed.

As she had landed a final blow to a man near her on the ground, a man charging at her on horseback had caught her and she spun quickly on her heel to face, he fired an arrow towards her but she raised her shield to deflect it, watching as he dismounted his horse and approached her, letting loose another arrow. At first, she had thought he had missed until a scorching pain made her stumble back as the pain of it made her entire body shake violently. A searing pain was felt in her arm, making let out a guttural scream and she looked down to see the arrow had pierced her arm. Boudicca hissed, gritting her teeth and threw her shield to the ground before she brought her hand up and grasped the arrow, ripping the arrow from her arm despite the pain it caused her and she let her eyes close for a moment before she inhaled deeply, reopening them.

Boudicca eyed the man and watched as he prepared to fire another arrow at her but this time, she ran for him, her grip tightening on her hammer as she raised it above her head, letting out a piercing and bloody cry for war. Boudicca stepped on some nearby rocks and jumped high into the air before swinging her hammer and striking the man as she landed back on the ground. His head flew backwards and she watched impassively as it fell from his body, the head rolling across the field. She felt her eyes water from the pain in her arm but she blinked back the tears to look down at her wounds, with shaking fingertips she reached to touch her wound but once she did so, she quickly retracted her hand with a hiss and looked to the horse the man had dismounted.

Boudicca raced for the horse as more arrows rained down from the sky, bringing down men to her left and her right. Within moments, she had mounted the horse and charged across the field to reach the bloodshed, bringing down her hammer on any man that came near her. Boudicca began to swing her war hammer, blood flying from it as she did so when she saw a man on horseback charging for her. The smirk on the man's face disappeared when she came towards him but before she could strike him, a horse charged into the man's and she watched as both the man and the horse began to fly high in the air before colliding harshly with the ground and she heard a sickening crack. Boudicca held the reins on the horse tightly and saw it was Smalljon Umber who had attacked the man, she gave him a nod before they turned their horses and raced towards the Whitehill army.

" _Who owns the North_?" Smalljon roared.

This seemed to rile men up in her army and the battle became more vicious and ferocious, she could hear Lord Whitehill's roars above all as he spat out commands and snarled out insults and curses. Boudicca dismounted from the horse and let the frightened horse flee from the battlefield as she ran to the nearest Whitehill soldier attacking a Stark soldier, she grasped him by the hair and flung him over her shoulder and onto the hard ground, she turned and brought down her hammer before helping the soldier up as they continued to fight the rest of the Whitehill army.

The bulk of Whitehill's army was still beyond the trenches and it seemed they were remaining there. Boudicca found herself notices the bodies that were piling high and the smell, the smell of the dead was strong. She could barely see through the mud and blood that covered her face, she wiped some of it away from her eyes with the back of her hand before she looked frantically around the battlefield, trying to catch a glimpse of Lord Whitehill. The man she intended to kill.

" _Fire!"_

Boudicca looks up and notices a volley of arrows fly through the air and she kneels down, fortunate that none of the arrows hit her. She stumbles to her feet and lands a blow to another man, dodging some of the Whitehill cavalrymen that had managed to survive the earlier massacre and ducks before the man could run her through with his sword, she brings her war hammer against the horse and watches as the man flies from it, landing on his own sword. Boudicca withdraws her dagger, grasping the arm of a Whitehill soldier and slashes his throat while the Stark foot soldier that she had saved earlier finishes him off.

As she runs through the bloodshed, she finds that she is running over bodies than she is marshland until she comes to an abrupt stop, sheathing her dagger before she grasps her war hammer with both hands and lets it lean on her shoulder as she makes her way across the field. Boudicca notices a man on a horse charge for her but Smalljon knocks him down with his shield. She runs over to where the man lands and brings down her hammer on him, blood meeting her face as she does so.

Lord Whitehill's archers let loose more arrows and this time one catches Smalljon in the side, he falls from his horse with a grunt. Boudicca approaches him and helps him to his feet, carrying most of his weight as they make their way through the battlefield. Boudicca is roughly shoved to the ground, she let go of her war hammer and collapsed on top of Smalljon and turns on her back quickly to see a Whitehill soldier with his sword raised to strike her but a sword is driven through his throat, causing the man to collapse to his knees. She looks up and sees Ser Harwin, smirking down at her and holds out his hand. She accepts and he helps both her and Smalljon to their feet.

"This is a piss take!" Ser Harwin proclaims, looking around the battlefield as the Whitehill army dwindled in number and some of their soldiers had gathered around them. "Where are they?"

"Does it look like I have the fucking answers?" Smalljon snarls, letting out a grunt when she snaps the arrow in half.

Boudicca lets Ser Harwin lead Smalljon away as she runs to attack the Whitehill soldiers, her army charging up behind her. The rain of arrows had stopped causing her to frown and she noticed men in their hundreds appear behind Lord Whitehill's army but when she looks up and sees the many sigils and her smile widens when she sees the black bear of House Mormont. She can hear cries when House Mormont collides with the archers of House Whitehill. It was a massacre as bodies began to drop in their hundreds, the bodies made a small hill as they piled up.

"Fall back!" A man was heard shouting, his voice hoarse and pained. " _Fall back!"_

Her eyes flickered towards where Lord Whitehill was and she saw Greatjon and the rest of her army charge at them, attacking them from behind. It was a fearsome blow and she watched many men drop from where she stood. Boudicca looked on, her chest heaving and her breasts were constricted by the tight bond she had wrapped around her chest and the armour she wore weighed heavily on her aching body. Boudicca could hear the roars of Greatjon and Lord Umber above them all.

Boudicca could taste it. It was a taste she had not tasted in a long time. And she found herself enjoying it.

 _Victory._

Boudicca licked her bloody lips as everything slowly fell silent, the soldiers from House Whitehill that had managed to survive the slaughtered had fled for the woods but her riders followed swiftly after them. A crowd of men had slowly gathered around her as she walked through the battlefield slowly, observing it and taking in the bloodshed surrounding her. There were bodies strewn about the battleground, soldiers and horses alike lying where they had been impaled by spears and the ground was now a river of blood. A great noise picked up gradually in this distance, causing her downcast eyes to look up at what they were chanting.

" _Warrior Queen!_ "

" _The Bringer of Storms!_ "

" _The Queen of the North!_ "

" _The Avenger!"_

" _The Storm Queen!"_

Boudicca lets a small smile of anguish appear on her bloody and dirty face and the last bit of strength she had, lifted her head back and with a howl, thrust her bloody war hammer high in the air and roared. The roar was one of triumph, of victory, of blood lust, of pain...of sorrow...of _relief._ She closed her eyes, inhaling the smell of blood and death that lingered in the air and reopened her eyes, bringing back down her war hammer into the ground and turned, walking further into the battlefield with her men at her side and she holds back the relieved tears that threaten to fall from her peaceful and tired eyes, that were threatening to flutter shut. Boudicca makes her way towards Ser Davos who is standing beside Lady Lyanna and Lord Glover with her head held high and her eyes fiercer than any storm that she has faced.

Boudicca fought this war, the War of the Storm for herself. She fought this war for her lost husband. She fought this war for House Stark. She fought this war to avenge the North. She fought this war so that they no longer would be ruled by Westeros. She fought this war for freedom. She fought this war for her brother and for her sister she grieved for. She fought this war for her _son..._ No one, from the lions in King's Landing to the krakens of the Iron Islands to the dragons across the Narrow Sea would stop her. Boudicca did not fight this hard and come this far to walk away without getting what she longs for.

 _I am Boudicca of the House Baratheon,_ Boudicca thinks to herself. _I will have my vengeance no matter how long I will have to fight for it. I will have it._

* * *

Author's Note: Hey, I hope you liked the Battle of The Twins! I usually update every two days with this story but since I already had this chapter written and just had to tweak it slightly, I thought I would upload it. I would like to firstly thank all of you who have reviewed, each review I get means a lot to me and I would also like to thank everyone who has read this story, who has made it one of their favourites and who has followed this story. If you have any questions, feel free to ask and I will happily answer them!

Reviews-

Guest: Thank you!

ladyres: I loved Lyanna in season 6 and had to include her, Alysanne is currently at Bear Island but will be making an appearance later on and Dacey died at the Red Wedding.

EMILCE CULLEN-VULTURI: Sí, su historia seguirá siendo canon.

RHatch89: Thank you, I hope you like this chapter!

celticank: I hope you like this chapter and she will eventually come to confront them!

ZabuzasGirl: Thank you! Hopefully, you like chapter thirty four!

WolfWarrior: I felt bad writing about the death of Robb and Myrcella but I knew it was a necessary evil in order for her character to move on and develop as they were the only two characters that could really hold her back and make her think of a more peaceful approach and thank you, it means a lot to me that you think so!

Godlikelover16: Thank you, I hope you like this chapter and I hope you liked her battle against House Whitehill. There will be a lot more battles to come!


	36. Chapter Thirty Five

_The Twins_

Boudicca Baratheon

Boudicca was breaking her fast that morn with her people, the hall was in a silent solemness while they ate. It unnerved her knowing that the reason as to why they were quiet was because the dead were resting just outside the door to the halls and her people were paying their respects to the fallen as they ate. She did not feel like celebrating nor did anyone else, they made a toast to honour the fallen and with that they resumed eating. It felt strange to her, it should have felt like a victory yet it did not feel like one. It felt anything but. Boudicca still had a _thirst_ for war, for the chance to have her blade stained red from the blood of her enemies once more. She bit into a boar's leg, ripping into the tender meat and pulled it away from the bone with a small grunt and chewed thoughtfully, looking across at Ser Davos who was sat next to her and she watched him while he ate porridge.

Boudicca picked up her goblet and looked down at the crimson liquid, she began to take in her tired reflection before she took a sip just as the doors to the Twins opened. She looked up as the light of day seeped through and there she saw Edric Dayne with a letter in his hand. Her brows raised, wondering if Ramsay Snow _did_ have the balls to reply to her. She placed her goblet down and watched as he briskly climbed up the steps to her side, she swallowed the rest of her drink before glancing down to the letter in his firm hold. The boy had stopped shaking since he was appointed her squire. Boudicca thanked the boy before taking the letter and turned to face Ser Davos, a smile present on her face when she noticed the neat and small hand.

"It's from Shireen," Boudicca informs him, watching as his face softened. "Do you wish for me to read it to you?"

"I've been practising, my Queen-" Ser Davos tells her with a small smile and a curt nod while she opens up the letter carefully with her letter opener, not wanting to rip the piece of parchment containing her cousin's precious words inside. "Shireen and...Myrcella, they were teaching me how to. Lady Sansa had a go but she found herself getting easily frustrated. I've dedicated most of my spare time to it."

"You've done so well," Boudicca remarks fondly as her eyes stare at the beautiful cursive writing, taking in the words of the kindly sweet girl.

 _Dearest Boudicca,_

 _I have been begging father for moon's worth to write to you but he would not allow me to, no matter how much I begged him and mother._ _  
_ _We are at the Wall and I think that we are safe...well I hope that we are safe. We are never truly safe, are we? The Battle of Blackwater was_ _  
_ _a major defeat for father, never before have I seen his face more thunderous...I wish you were here, I have not seen you since our time in_ _  
_ _King's Landing and that is nearly three name days ago. I am not exactly sure why we headed for the Wall after fleeing from Dragonstone but_ _  
_ _we received word from the Night's Watch. I asked father, surely it would be wiser to travel to you? He says that you no longer desire the throne,_ _  
_ _therefore he is taking it for himself as he does not want the Lannisters to rule Westeros._

 _I cannot wait to see you and Ser Davos! Hopefully, by now he can read this and I have worded this letter in simple words so that he may be able_ _  
_ _to read it better. Ser Davos before his departure had been taking lessons from me but I am certain that you already know, I hope that I have not_ _  
_ _embarrassed him. I think he would be embarrassed if you knew the full extent of how badly he cannot read nor write, nevertheless, I am proud of_ _  
_ _him for trying! As I hope you are too, keep encouraging him to read a short passage each and every day. Ser Davos promised he could read once in_ _  
_ _the morning and once after sup. I hope he had kept his promise as I have mine; I am being brave._

 _I cannot wait to meet little Ned! Please, send him my love and my father sends his congrats...well, at least I think he said that when Melisandre told_ _  
_ _him of the news. I talk to Gilly, a Wildling girl. She has a baby boy too, they do not name their children very quick like we do but Gilly says that she_ _  
_ _has named him 'Sam' after the large, kind crow that saved her. Sam is a huge baby and he tends to laugh a lot. He is a rather jolly boy, does Ned smile_ _  
_ _a lot too? Gilly's very protective over him as well, she says that a mother should never cast out her young, no matter what the circumstances, she_ _  
_ _says a mother who does that is no mother at all. I have tried to give Gilly lessons as she really wants to read but mother won't let me._

 _I have not met very many crows as I have been kept in my chambers most of the time but I have met a few and they are very nice. The man, Sam_ _  
_ _that I mentioned earlier, he is very friendly and likes to read like I do. He reads lots of books but I must say he does have a nervous stammer and I_ _  
_ _think he will eventually run out of books. I met another crow, Jon Snow. He, Melisandre and my father were talking about you. Jon smiled at me,_ _  
_ _although he is a rather brooding man...he is a lot like father except he is kinder and has a gentle heart. He did not look at me with fear like most do._ _  
_ _Jon spoke highly of you to my Lord father and Lady Melisandre._

 _I heard of your great victories in battle. The storm represents you._

 _Please write to me of little Ned and of your well being, I also hope to hear from Ser Davos._

 _I wish you well,_ _  
_ _Shireen._

Boudicca stared down at the letter with unshed tears, the tears in her eyes blurred her vision every time she blinked. She kept blinking furiously in a desperate attempt to push back the tears that had gathered at the corners of her eyes. Boudicca folds the kindly worded letter and hands it over to Ser Davos. The little girl who write it was blissfully unaware of how much the words she wrote hurt her, especially when it came to her little Ned. Her brows came together in confusion when she thought on Jon Snow. _Jon Snow spoke highly of me? He barely knew me. What could he possibly have to say about me?_ Her downcast eyes look up and she watches as Ser Davos mouths each word which momentarily brings a soft smile to her face.

"l love that little girl," Ser Davos said with fondness in his eyes. "I love that girl like she was my own."

"I have high hopes that we will see her soon Ser Davos," Boudicca responds. "If my uncle Stannis desires the Iron Throne and wishes to become King of Westeros, so be it. I will back him to an extent as I no longer desire the throne, his words are true. I simply wish for the separation of the North, Riverlands and Stormlands from Westeros. I wish to be free from Westerosi politics. I simply wish for freedom. If he wants support, I will gift it to him once I have what I sought. This makes Shireen, the future Queen of Westeros should Selyse not give my uncle a son...which is most likely. My cousin will need help and I intend to help her. We both will."

"We will, my Queen-" Ser Davos states. "Though...pardon me for saying this but...Boudicca, I think you are making a mistake."

"What?" Boudicca inquires, her face falling into a frown. "Why? How?"

"You should take the Iron Throne. You have a good claim, a better one than Stannis has. You have a birthright. You are the true born daughter of King Robert Baratheon, do not forget that. Your name means something," He says firmly while he leans closer to her before his eyes drift off to the people gathered around the tables near them and continues to speak to her, his voice low and gruff. "You see these people...what do these people mean to you?"

"They are my people. Our people," Boudicca says sincerely with a fierceness in her voice. "I have seen it. I have seen a future for the North, the Stormlands and the Riverlands. A united kingdom. I have seen the future! I have seen it a thousand times over on thousands upon thousands of faces. The faces of young to the old, to the wise to the foolish, to the brave to the weak, to the high born to the low born. I have seen it. These people don't wish for change...they _want_ it! And I will be that change that they want to see. I will not fail them."

"Boudicca...I may not be made of the same stuff that heroes are made from-" Ser Davos begins but she holds her hand up, interrupting him.

"You _are_ to me," She insists, looking at him softly. "You saved my life...You have been by my side since my time in King's Landing. You have been my most loyal companion and one of my true friends."

"They believe in you. They think of you as some kind of liberator...some kind of avenger for the North. I may not know much about Northerners but I know of their loyalty...they will never betray you nor will they betray Ned. You are respected like your uncle, you are feared like your father and mother...but you are something that they have never been. You inspire your people, you inspire me...you are loved," He responds. "You have a strength that no other possesses."

"Ser Davos Seaworth-" Boudicca started, her voice echoing throughout the hall as she stands and faces the people who looked at her but her eyes still remained on Ser Davos as she pulls out a small black pin from her pocket and held it firmly in her hand. He looked confused before his face fell into one of awe and denial when she pinned an iron pin shaped with a direwolf with a crown around its neck to his chest. "I now name you Hand of the Queen. I hope you will serve me well from this day until my last day. This pin is truer than some King's Landing pin and I hope you will come to wear it with pride."

"To Ser Davos!" Lady Lyanna cheered loudly, her face brightening as she raised her goblet high in the air and toasted with various men and women that sat around her table.

" _Ser Davos!"_

"To Ser Davos!" Boudicca proclaimed after the voices died down, raising her goblet high before placing it to her lips as she sat down once more. The smile never left her face when she saw the look of uncertainty and awe that was present on Ser Davos's face, he was staring intently at the pin with a conflicted look on his face, he seemed to be trying to determine if it was real or not but when he came to the realisation, he looked up to her with a shake of his head and a small smile broke out onto his face as several people clapped him on the back and offered him their congrats.

"I do not understand," Ser Davos responded. "How am I fit to be the Hand?"

"I already told you," She informs him. "You are my dearest friend. I do not trust many people but I trust you. I value your advice above all."

"I am a lowborn, Boudicca," He tells her with a shake of his head. "I do not know of many Lords who will obey a lowborn smuggler."

"You are the Hand of the Queen," Boudicca retorts. "You are above all those Lords and Ladies."

More people began to offer their congrats to Ser Davos but her mind lingered on the letter that her little cousin had written to her and her thoughts were particularly focused on the part about her uncle Stannis and his ever scheming Red Priestess that seemingly holds his favour. It seemed Shireen did not know she had offered her such valuable information and had acted as a spy of sorts to her unbeknown to her innocent cousin. A few questions lingered in her mind; _What could the likes of Jon Snow possibly have to say about me? Are they plotting against me?_

The letter also made her heart ache when she thought on little Ned, Sansa and Tommen. Boudicca did not want to send them away, by the Gods she did not want to but if the choice came to having them close to her but them getting captured and tortured to being safe and well but far away from her, she would always choose the latter even though it was painful. Boudicca has already lost her father, her husband, her sister and a lot of companions. She would not foolishly risk her own son, brother and good sister. Her thoughts lingered on her son and she felt the familiar longing and hurt that lingered in both her chest and mind, she was riddled with guilt and would continue to be guilt ridden until the end of her days.

There was not a day went by that she did not think of him, from the moment she opened her eyes in the morn to closing her eyes in the dead of night, she always thought about him. Boudicca saw Ned. No matter where she would look, she saw him. She saw him in the fire, the dancing flames reminding her of his soft tufts of auburn hair and then she saw the green of the trees and the grey of the skies that reminded her of his eyes. The only place where Boudicca could feel some sort of contentment in this damned place was looking out of her window to the woods. The gentle gold of the sun reminded her of Tommen, the woods reminded her of Ned and the blue of the river nearby reminded her of Sansa.

And then she thought on Robb. _Robb_ , she thinks to herself solemnly. Boudicca continued to dream of him each night but it frightened her terribly...the words her father spoke of when he talked about his lost love Lyanna rang true to her and to her own lost love. Her father was drunk and that is when he revealed all his secrets to her. Boudicca dreamt each night of Robb. At times, she almost wished that once she closed her eyes, she would not wake up and continue to dream of him. Boudicca was _tired_. All she wanted was to be in Robb's embrace again but she knew that it would never happen. She would never see him again.

 _It's dangerous...falling in fucking love. Did I ever tell you of that bastard dragon spawn, Rhaegar?_ Her father had slurred angrily to her. _My Lady Lyanna was beautiful...she was the one thing in this world that I wanted but I could never have her because of that dragon who stole her from me. I fought for her. I waged a war for her yet she died anyway. I was left with nothing but an Iron Throne and a heavy crown. The Seven Kingdoms could never fill the hole she left behind._

 _Not even me?_ Boudicca came to ask him. _What of mother? Do you love her?_

 _No. Not even you, daughter,_ Robert responded gruffly. _As for your mother, the bitch couldn't hold a candle to Lyanna's beauty. Nor you._

Boudicca remembered that her father's dreams were filled with nothing but resentment and hatred for Rhaegar. Her father killed the Dragon Prince every night in his sleep and she wondered worriedly if her dreams of Robb, that she held so close to her heart would fade to dreams of Roose Bolton after she flays and kills him. Boudicca did not want to forget her Young Wolf, the man who pressed tender kisses to her entire body and did not care for her scars. The man who she shared a laugh, a dance and a drink with. He was not just her love, husband and the father to her son. He was her best friend. And he was gone.

At first, all she felt was sadness, guilt and bitterness over Robb's death but then a newer emotion stirred in her after their son was born. Boudicca was angry at Robb, how dare he leave this world without her at his side. She felt angry that he no longer had to suffer while she had to suffer each day, praying that one day she may close her eyes and wake up to find him at her side but every time she wakes, she feels nothing but disappointment as she wakes lying in an empty and cold bed. There was no man with his arms wrapped around her, smothering her with his warmth nor was their a large direwolf lying on her legs. It was shite, it was not fair...he left her alone to wander the world and fight for the freedom of his people...people she had grown to love.

 _If it were I who died that night instead of you, my love..._ Boudicca thinks as she downs her wine. _Would you long for my touch just as fiercely as I long for yours? If I were to place a kiss on your lips once more...it would be not passionate and quick...it would be tender, gentle and slow. And that kiss I hope would last a lifetime. A kiss that would end my life. For I would kiss you until I no longer had breath._

* * *

"You wanted a _battle_ girl-" Lord Whitehill sneered, twirling his sword in his right hand. "Here's a fucking _war._ "

Boudicca merely lifted a brow, a small smile making its way onto her face as she grasped her sword with both hands and began to circle him. Lord Whitehill had been one of the men to flee from the battlefield and when he was captured, she had sentenced him to death by her hand but just before she brought her sword down on his neck, he requested a Trial by Combat. As she made her way forwards, sparing a glance to Ser Davos who held a concerned look on his face as she twirled her sword and grew closer to the man who no longer wore white armour. Boudicca looked briefly down to Ser Davos' chest and saw the pin she had given him was worn with pride and it caused her heart to swell but the smile on her face faded when her eyes landed once more on Lord Whitehill.

"I will not send your bones back to your home nor will I burn your body," Boudicca seethed, her voice low as she nears him like a wolf that was stalking its intended prey. "No. I will not give you such an honour. I will leave your headless body to _rot_ and your head will be sent to the bastard of House Bolton. I will watch as the maggots burrow themselves into your body and watch as they devour you...I will bathe in your blood...I will drown myself in it."

A crowd of Lords and Ladies had gathered to watch her defeat their shared enemy. Boudicca kept her fiery eyes on Lord Whitehill, bitterness and hatred burning within her green eyes as she stared at him intensely. The little Lord Ryon was with them like she had original feared but she was thankful that he was not dead. The girl, Thalia did not need to lose another sibling. She shared the girl's pain. It was odd knowing that she would never see nor hear her sister again.

The happy singing of her sister was what usually woke her up at dawn but now she woke up to nothing but silence. A cold silence. _Their fault,_ she heard them hissing. _It's their fault._ Lord Whitehill had lied about the whereabouts of Lord Ryon. Her riders had found the boy, bloody and beaten and tied up in a cage near the outskirts of the woods. Boudicca watched the old Maester Timon make his way towards them to announce the Trial by Combat and she shifted in anticipation as he made his way towards the centre of the dark hall with only grey lighting seeping through the small windows which allowed them to see.

"In the sight of Gods and in the eyes of men, we are gathered before Boudicca of the House Baratheon and Ludd of the House Whitehill. May the Gods judges them accordingly," Maester Timon begins, croaking out the words and in the silence gives a small cough. "May the Father gift them justice. May the Mother be merciful. May the Maiden be gentle. May the Crone gift them wisdom. May the Warrior guide their hands. May the Smith give them strength and may the Stranger-"

"All Seven of the fuckers?" Lord Whitehill spat, interrupting the Maester which made her give him a sharp look. "Get on with it!"

The Maester fell silent and stepped back, announcing that the trial could now begin after Maester Timon made a small and swift prayer. After he announced it, Lord Whitehill immediately descended on her, twirling his sword in his right hand as she held her sword in her left. From the way he breathed to the way he held himself, Boudicca's eyes were fixated intently on every movement he made. His footwork was far better than what she expected it would as they circled each other, a predatory look shared between them. The moment the man sneered at her she retaliated with a feral snarl.

Lord Whitehill was a boar adorned in armour, he reminded her of the great beasts that Jon Arryn had told her of when she avoided the Septa and found herself in the gardens with him. The same monster from his story stormed towards her, his feet like thunder against the stone floor causing her eyes to widen slightly. Lord Whitehill roared at her, raising his large sword and she moved hastily out of the way as it sliced through the air, his sword almost caught her arm. _He makes predictable strikes,_ Boudicca notes to herself. His strikes were predictable but Lord Whitehill made up for it in brutality.

Boudicca twirled her sword with both hands and brought it down to catch his shoulder and before he could move for her, hurriedly brought her foot up and roughly kicked him in the chest with all her strength, letting out a loud battle cry as she did so. The mere force of her attack made him stumble back and with brute force, Lord Whitehill lunged at her with a snarl to attack her once more but she deflected his blows as he swung his blade towards her. Boudicca's calm face etched into a furious one as they began to strike each other fiercer and soon they slipped into some sort of dance. _Lunge and strike,_ those were their moves and moves that she would follow to avoid a sword in her. To avoid the powerful blows of his sword, it took every bit of her concentration and strength to block them.

Her storm dance worked well with his strong movements. _I am the fierce waves of the sea, the striking strength,_ she recites the all too familiar words of her childhood. _But I am confined to a raindrop, the swift step._ She kept her eyes locked with his own and saw frustration dance within his own eyes from her harsh and powerful movements. _At the start, I am water then I become snow and not long after, I will become ice._ Boudicca gifted him a wink which seemed to goad him on as he became enraged and she sidestepped away from him, bringing her sword up to her face and took a step back as their swords clashed once more. She began to push against his sword with a yell and swiftly moved away, causing him to stumble slightly.

"You will pay for your betrayal," Boudicca said as he swung his sword at her but she deflected his blow. They began to circle each other slowly once more, allowing her roll her stiff shoulders and she tilted her head to the side, enjoying the satisfying crack she heard and her hands gripped her sword tighter, her knuckles turning white. "I will be the last thing you see before you _die._ The last thing you will see before you die will be a Baratheon smiling at you."

"You have to kill me first!" Lord Whitehill sneered.

" _I already have,"_ Boudicca answers impassively.

"I want you to stop prancing around, stag. I want you to fight me!"

Lord Whitehill made a move to strike her but Boudicca stepped to the side and brought down her sword into the side of his knee, causing him to let out a pained yell and was brought to his knees. Boudicca slides the hidden dagger out of her sleeve and drove her dagger into his sword hand, loosening the grip he had on his long sword. Boudicca withdrew her sword from his knee and he roared, making an attempt to grab her but she caught his elbow, causing him to release his grip on his sword and she watched in pleasure as his sword clattered to the ground.

He snarled at her, letting out a string of curses from frustration and while she thought he would make a move to grab sword allowing her to strike, he did not. Instead, he reached up and grasped her by the waist and jumped on her, bringing them both harshly to the ground with a sickening thud. Boudicca heard a crack and threw her head back and let out a scream, an immense and temporarily blinding pain began to shoot up her arm and to her shoulder. Her screams were abruptly silenced when he wrapped a hand around her throat, choking her.

Lord Whitehill landed blows to her stomach, causing her to gasp as she writhed beneath with each powerful blow given to her. After the eighth blow, she managed to bring her knee up and landed a harsh and unforgiving blow between his legs and struggled to get herself out of his iron like grip. Boudicca wraps her hands around his neck and with a growl, brings her head up and latches onto his neck, her teeth piercing the joint where his jaw and neck met and with a snarl, dug her teeth in and pulled back the flesh. He let out a gargled scream, blood weeping heavily from his wound. All she could see was red, as crimson covered the upper part of her body, her vision was blinded by the rain of blood before he collapsed on top of her, crushing her body with the weight.

He had his hands holding his neck, desperately trying to cover the wound as he struggled to hang on to what little life he had left but to no avail. His struggle was soon stopped when she slipped her dagger into the side of his neck and twisted it into his neck with a final, guttural and painful cry. The man stilled, his body only making jerking movements and that is when she knew he was dead. Boudicca no longer smelt his rancid breath nor did she feel his chest rise and fall. She lay her head back on the ground and with that, darkness claimed her.

* * *

 _King's Landing_

Cersei Lannister

 _Mama,_ those were the first words that passed from their lips. The first words of her children were _mama_ _._ Her beautiful children always called her to them. They never called for their father nor any other. It was _her_ they called for. Her sweet Myrcella was _good_ , her youngest daughter and son were the only purest things to come from her and she wondered was she truly such a monster that many hailed her as if she could give birth and raise children with intentions so good and voices sweet as honey. She has lost a second child within a matter of moons. It was too soon and she wondered how much her bleeding and aching heart could take.

" _Look at us, mama!"_ Joffrey's joyful and innocent laughter echoed in her mind. " _Look at us! We are Duncan the Tall and Egg on our next adventure!"_

Cersei looked down at her eldest son, feeling tears of anger rising in her eyes as she stared at him. As her son laid to rest, it seemed as if he was merely sleeping. She had removed the stones from his eyes and looked at his peaceful face, an expression of contentment was on his features, it was an expression she had not seen in years. His eyes were closed softly, allowing his fair lashes to rest on his pale cheeks. The blood that wept from his eyes, nose, mouth and ears had been wiped away as if to hide the truth from her. His small pale lips were pressed and resting softly, no longer holding their usual sneer and his brows were not frowning.

" _Mama!"_ Her son yelled. _"Boudicca says that I can go riding with her! Please let me, mama! Please!"_

Joffrey had been cleaned earlier by the Silent Sisters and had been dressed in the finest and grandest clothing that he owned. He was wearing a crimson tunic that bore a golden lion with gold buttons that were done up to his neck, his trousers matched the fabric of his tunic and a long Lannister and Baratheon cloak adorned his shoulders. The moment her eyes met the sword that was resting underneath his hands, she caught her grief filled face and began to cry harder than she ever has. Cersei wanted Joffrey to sit up and cruelly mock her, claiming it was some sort of sick jest he pulled to amuse himself but he did not. He remained stiff and grey.

" _I love you, mama!"_

"Stop crying," A voice commanded causing her eyes to slowly trail up from her son to meet her father. "Joffrey is dead. Tommen is alive. The crown will pass to him."

"How dare you!" Cersei hissed, her eyes narrowing as she glared hatefully up at him. "He was my _son_! My first son!"

"You have another son," Tywin snapped, giving her a cold look. "A son that will take his place on the throne. Your first son failed...I will not allow your second son to fail."

"He was my son!" She seethed, tears sliding down her face. "My eldest son and youngest daughter are _dead_! This is _your_ doing! My children..."

"It does not matter who Joffrey was. It matters what he was and he was a King. He was not a good King, therefore, I will make a better one out of Tommen," Her father replied. Her father's voice was impassive, uncaring and she began to wonder if she was the only one to mourn for her son. _No,_ she denied with a shake of her head as she looked back down to her son. _Boudicca and Tommen were his siblings, they loved him. They will mourn for him...like I do. I am not alone._ "It has come to my attention that Boudicca has sent Tommen to the Vale, Petyr Baelish has informed me of it. He will be in King's Landing soon enough and when he does arrive, he will be crowned King."

Her father left swiftly after that, bringing her attention back to her cub. _My boy,_ she thought as a harsh and strangled noise escaped her lips. _You were a lion, my son...I hope you weren't afraid, you mustn't be afraid not even of death._ The sound of loud sobbing caught her attention and she wildly looked up to see the Tyrell's. Margaery, Olenna and Loras Tyrell. She stared at them, watching them with a fierceness when she felt her blood boil from the seething rage she felt. The Tyrell whore that made an attempt to steal her son had her face buried in her grandmother's neck, her shoulders shaking as she let out mournful wails. If she could have it her way, she would have all the Tyrell's burned at the stake.

The Tyrell bitch did not love her son, she loved the power that her son had and to avoid whisperings about her at court, she knew that the girl was putting on a show to keep up appearances. _The show must go on,_ she thought scornfully as she eyed them hatefully. The girl was wearing a silken dress that was black and low cut, putting her breasts on display and revealing her lithe figure. At the girl's side stood Loras, staring at the ground impassively but he did not look on her son. No, none of them did. No one would look at her boy. No one would look at the injustice. Lady Olenna enraged her most of all as she dabbed at her dry eyes with a handkerchief with a rose engraved onto it as she murmured soft words to Margaery.

 _The woman looks smug,_ Cersei hissed to herself. _I will kill them all._

As his funeral ended, everyone fled from the Sept until only she remained. And she would remain until his body was nothing but dust carried with the wind. The doors slowly creaked open, allowing the light of day to enter and she sneered at it and slowly turned around, ready to lunge at the person who would dare enter. No one would disturb the last moments she could have with her son. Her entire body stiffened when her eyes landed on Jaime who approached her within a few strides, his Kingsguard armour glistening gold in the candlelight.

"Cersei-" Jaime began, letting his hand rest on her shoulder as he knelt beside her and she leant back, letting her head rest on his neck.

"It was _him_ ," She hissed. "It was Tyrion. I know it was."

"No," He denied. "It wasn't Tyrion."

"It was!" Cersei screamed, rising from her chair and turned to face him before she lowered her voice. "It was him. I know it was...I know it was...It had to be..."

"You do not know that," Her brother insisted. "You have no proof."

"My boy...My little boy..." She said, reaching out with a shaking hand and let it rest on her son's cold one. "The first time we saw a dead body...do you remember?"

"Mother," Jaime answered. "Why are you-"

"I obsessed over how she died...all because of that little imp!" Cersei spits before her voice softened and she lets her eyes close. "From the moment I opened my eyes, from the moment I closed them. All day and night. I thought about our mother and what she would look like. You and I both know that now she is nothing but bones but the weeks after she died, all I could think about was what she would look like should I dig up her body. All I could remember was who her skin turned from white to grey and wondered when it would turn black. What did my daughter and I do that was so wrong? Why are the Gods punishing us? My beautiful daughters having to endure that...Boudicca watching as Myrcella's face turns grey and her body grows cold, her little face starting to-"

"Don't," Her twin brother hushed as she let out a strangled sob. "You mustn't think about such things."

"I have to," She told him. "It isn't fair that Boudicca has to suffer alone. W-We lost them...We loved them and lost them..."

"Boudicca has avenged Myrcella's death," Jaime informed her, holding her to his chest. "Myrcella and Joffrey are _gone_. The world cannot hurt them anymore."

"The world is still hurting Boudicca...The world can still hurt Tommen," Cersei breathes. "Icca, Joff, Cella and Tom. I had four children now I have two."

"You can still protect the two you have," Her brother said gently.

"The last time I can remember when my children were _safe_ and _happy_ and _together_ was when Tommen was a year old," Cersei recalls, her voice small and weak as she thinks back on the memory, the laughter echoing in her eyes. "Myrcella was two, Joffrey was six and Boudicca was ten and one. We were in the Water Garden. It was just us. I sat breastfeeding Tommen and watched as Myrcella, Joffrey and Boudicca played. That was the last time I was _truly_ happy. Boudicca was carrying Myrcella around on her back and ran through the fountains as Joffrey chased her, splashing her with the warm and sweet water. We spent the entire day in the Water Gardens. I watched as Boudicca made flowers crowns with Myrcella, sang songs and made up stories with Joffrey...The world was kinder to us then. The happiness on their faces...the laughter...It is like I have been dreaming...only to discover that I am living in a night terror. What happened, Jaime? Is this the price we must pay?"

"I failed them," Jaime said solemnly. "Joffrey was my son and Myrcella was my daughter. I failed them and I failed you."

"No. You did not fail me," She denied, staring ahead at a nearby candle, watching it flicker. "I knew this would happen, the woman told me so. The witch, the one I told you about...I wasn't lying, Jaime. The witch promised me, four children. The witch told me that I would birth death...that my golden haired children would die. You cannot prevent a prophecy, Jaime. It is fate."

"You can't honestly believe that?" He asked, staring at her with a strange look present in her eyes.

"I always have and I always will," Cersei said, tears rising in her eyes. "Myrcella is dead. Joffrey is dead...Tommen is next."

"What did the prophecy say about Boudicca?" Her golden haired brother inquired. "Is she to die?"

"No," She replied hopelessly. "She is death. _Morghon._ "

* * *

Author's Note: Hey, I hope you liked this chapter! I would like to thank all of you for reading this story, for making this story one of your favourites and for following. I would also like to give massive thanks to everyone who has left a review, they mean a lot to me. If you have any questions feel free to ask and the next update should be up soon!

Review-

ZabuzasGirl: Thank you! Hopefully you like chapter thirty five!

celticank: Thank you! Her face off with the Lannister's won't happen for a while yet but she will come to face of many others before that but hopefully you liked Cersei's pov.

RHatch89: Thank you!

birdy: I hope you like chapter thirty five!

Jim: Thank you, I hope you like this update!

Guest: Thank you!

IceFlower: Thank you, I'm glad you did!


	37. Chapter Thirty Six

_The Eyrie_

Sansa Stark

" _Land of wolf and land of winter, land that is made from ice and stone..._ " Sansa sang softly.

Sansa cradled little Ned in her arms, humming the song as she trailed through the yard that was ankle deep in snow and covered in ice. She was thankful for her doeskin boots that reached her knees, the normal slippers of satin she tended to wear would have been pointless and she found herself glad of the winter clothing she had borrowed from her aunt Lysa. Large flakes of snow were falling from the sky, decorating their faces. As she continued to walk through the courtyard, all she could feel was bliss for Sansa was alone at long last.

 _No, I am not Sansa Stark anymore nor is he Ned, I am Alayne Waters and he is Edmund, my little brother, we are bastards,_ Sansa recites solemnly to herself before she looks down at the smiling babe that has only witnessed this world for three's moon and she was glad for the fact that he was yet to witness such cruelty. She had arrived in the Eyrie a little over two weeks ago, having made the perilous journey up into the mountains on horseback with Ser Barristan and Tommen and those that were named the Prince's Guard but now she found herself left alone with no one other than her nephew, no one other than the babe that shared the same name as her father.

It left an ache in her throbbing heart when she looked down at him and inspected his eyes, the Maester that resided within the Vale confirmed that Ned was blind in his right eye and his condition would worsen with age but to her, the eyes of little Ned made him more beautiful. With the exception of Boudicca, Sansa has never come across such a beautiful pair of eyes. Although his right eye was fogged over and was more of a misty grey she could still see a green hue seeping through. If Ned were not blind in that eye, he would have a matching pair of emerald eyes that held a hint of blue whenever the light of day caught them. He truly did have Boudicca's eyes but Robb's features dominated his looks. Sansa adored little Ned. She would be a mother to him like she promised the Warrior Queen that was fighting for the name _Stark._

Her time in the Eyrie made her recall the time when she once was a stupid little girl. All she could think of was how she had grown since Winterfell. _We have changed,_ Sansa thinks. Herself, Boudicca and Tommen changed but neither she nor her good sister had changed as much as gentle Tommen did. The boy of almost nine name days was still a quiet and well spoken boy, reminding her at times of Bran but his once round cheeks were starting to sharpen and his soft features were growing harder each day that passed, he was a boy lingering on the cusp of boyhood and he was not a man. He was still a child. Sansa could see the resemblance Tommen truly held to Boudicca after he had dyed his hair a dark brown like her own, he looked similar to his older sister then like she did her little sister.

 _We are the surviving bastard children of Robert,_ she repeats the words of Ser Barristan. _Queen Boudicca of the North sent us to the care of Lady Lysa Arryn of the Eyrie._

Tommen spent most of his time with her sickly cousin, Sweet Robin, who was ages with him. The blue eyed girl preferred it this way, though, she liked being selfish with little Ned and preferred to be alone with nothing but the grey sky above her and the snow covered ground below her, cradling her little nephew in her arms. It was Boudicca who had started calling him Little Wolf from the moment her nephew was placed in his mother's arms but it was Sansa who started to call him Little Ned and the name spread like wildfire. The Northerners called him little Ned rather than just Ned. _Ned._ That was her nephew's name. It was not Eddard nor Edmund or even Edmure...it was _Ned_ and she would not lose him like she lost her father. No, she would _die_ first before someone dared to try and hurt him. Sansa would be fierce, like her Lady mother and her Queen sister.

Sansa's dark locks covered a part of her face, warming her cold cheeks. She hushed the gurgling little Ned softly and approached one of the many stone seats and with a sweep of her arm, took away all of the snow and sat down on the stone seat that had a thin layer of ice covering it. Her large white cloak that covered her entire body along with Ned's preventing them from feeling any of the cold.

Although she had wrapped Ned in the blanket she had made for him and had made him woollen gloves for his small hands. Sansa looked around as the snow began to fall gently once more, giving her cheeks a tender burn when the flakes of ice landed on her face. The ice turning to water which slides down her face like frozen tears. In a cruel way, the Eyrie reminded her of Winterfell but it could never compare. This was not her home but at times, she was unsure of where her home was anymore...she had lost her home to House Greyjoy and then House Bolton.

"You will rule Winterfell someday," Sansa promised and looked down at little Ned with a soft smile as she stood from the stone seat and knelt in the snow, propping him further up in her left arm and slowly began to build Winterfell from the memories of her home that brought her pain and made her feel more alone than she ever has. "Your mother is a fierce woman and I know that we will see her again soon. If the world was good and if the Gods were just...your mother will be riding for the Vale on horseback and will carry us both far, far away from here but the sad truth is I do not know when we will see her again...do not worry, my little Ned...no matter where in the world she is or where we are, she is our family. Your mother will come to get us soon, I am certain of it."

At first, she had thought the wetness on her cheeks was from the snow melting and sliding down her cheeks but when she came to taste the salt on her lips as she licked them did she come to the realisation that she was crying. After discovering this, she let herself truly weep and she cried for her life. It was not supposed to be this way and she cursed herself for not being born a boy, she would never have had to leave Winterfell and would never have been betrothed to Joffrey. As selfish as it was, she would rather have married Boudicca instead of Robb. Her life would have been simpler.

Yet, she could not change the fact that she was a girl and she thought on what her life could have been. Sansa should have grown old, grey and withered in the walls of her home with a husband who loved her as much as her father loved her mother, sitting by her side and holding her hand. She imagined that their children, grandchildren and even great grandchildren were with them, their laughter echoing in the halls of her warm and welcoming home. A fancy castle and title meant nothing to her now...all she wanted was peace. Through her tears, she began to remake Winterfell before she stopped for a mere moment and looked at Ned, gifting him a small and sad smile.

"And one day, one day you will be _King_ ," Sansa told him hoarsely as she built Winterfell, focusing on the towers and the walls. "You will be a just King, a _good_ King. You will not be like Joffrey, who was cruel and vicious. You will not be like Robb, who was too honourable and trusting. You will not be like any Baratheon King. You will be like your Queen, who is fierce and proud and _loved_. You will be loved so much, Ned Stark, this I know and I will be so proud when I witness a crown of iron being placed on your head. I promise, Ned. Do you promise me? Do you promise to be a good ruler?"

Little Ned's pink lips lifted and he smiled at her, reaching up with small, pudgy hands and grasped the soft and damp curls of her hair that dangled in front of his face. He threaded his tiny fingers through her locks and gave her hair a gentle tug with what little strength he possessed. It was not much for a child of three moon's but it was a promise to her nonetheless. Ned could have tugged at her hair harshly and let out a horrible wail like she had seen other babies and even Sweet Robin do...but Ned was never like that, Ned a solemn and quiet babe. Like her own father was.

 _Winter is Coming._

Sansa had not uttered those words in what felt like nameday's worth and she knew now that they held a truth to them, they held a horrible truth. She was a Stark of Winterfell, she was a part of the direwolf pack that have held the North for thousands of years and she would not bend over willingly and let the Bolton's take the North. The entirety of Westeros had thought that House Stark was gone. _The wolves will come again,_ Sansa thinks fiercely as she holds Ned tighter and starts on another part of Winterfell, it was coming together and she felt at peace as she stared at the snow Winterfell she had built.

"This is Winterfell," Sansa explains with a gentle smile and holds him closer to the snow and points to various parts of the castle. She lets her grey gloved finger glide across the snow castle until her finger stills at the yard. "That is the yard, this is where my older brothers, Robb and Jon would spar with Theon. And this..." She guides her finger towards one of the walls of the castle. "This is where Septa Mordane would teach Arya and I lessons, not that Arya was keen with that...she would have preferred to train in the yard with our brothers. This part of the castle..." Sansa stills, stopping at a high tower and tilts her head. "Is where Maester Luwin resided. He was a kind and old man. He always said that our fiery hair meant we had luck."

Ned was staring with such an intensity at the small castle that she had created, that it made her almost uncomfortable and she wondered briefly what he was thinking as he busily tried to make sense of the world he was surviving in. Her brows furrowed slightly when he made a grabbing motion and began to pat the Godswood, letting out noises of what seemed to be delight when the coldness of the snow came into contact with his glove covered hands. It was not much of a Godswood though, it was just piles of snow with small broken sticks stuck deep into the snow with red winter flower petals that she had collected earlier, scattered around. For a moment, though, she could imagine herself in the Godswood.

"This is the Godswood, it is beautiful isn't it?" Sansa asks but all Ned does is let out a small hum. "I hope you don't miss your mother too much, your mother is fighting a war for us. If we do not take back Winterfell from the Bolton's...if we do not take back the North...we can never be truly safe, we can never be at peace. No matter where we flee to. Don't worry, Ned. We are safe in the Vale but if a time comes when we aren't...I will simply take you to Castle Black. I would die trying to get you there if it meant you were safe."

"Why the Wall?" A voice asks, causing her to startle.

Sansa stands and spins around sharply, disturbing the snow beneath her feet and it destroyed most of Winterfell causing her heart to ache from the pain when she saw the walls collapse in on themselves. Her blue eyes were wide and her breath had quickened as she tightened her hold onto Ned but let out a relieved sigh when she was met with the green and gentle eyes of Tommen. It was not Petyr Baelish nor Lysa Arryn. It was just Tommen. She tilted her head to the side, inspecting his eyes and noticed while all four green eyed siblings shared the same shade they all held different emotions in their eyes.

Joffrey's eyes always held a malice, a madness that made her shudder but that was hidden as he masked those eyes with a kind smile, that kept his true and darker intentions secret. Tommen's eyes hold a gentleness while Myrcella's eyes always held an innocence which made her smile. Boudicca's eyes hold a strength, a fierceness that made her feel _powerful_ and _safe_. Although Sansa did not want to admit it, Joffrey had Queen Cersei's eyes while Boudicca had Ser Jaime's eyes.

"Castle Black," Sansa repeats. "To Jon Snow."

"Jon Snow?" Tommen inquires with a small arched eyebrow.

"Yes," She responds and stares ahead, rocking Ned gently. "He will keep us safe, I swear."

* * *

 _The Riverlands_

Rolph Spicer

Rolph Spicer watched as she emerged from the thick fog after a long fought battle, riding aback a black stallion. As she charges for him, her horse trampling over the bodies of the slain, she looked like the Warrior himself. Her face was decorated with three red lions, it was as if a lion had clawed at her face. Her squid ink coloured locks slathered in blood and mud were fiercely whipping behind her. He found himself unable to pry his dull eyes away from the Warrior as she nears him with wild and fierce stormy eyes of green along with a snarl on her face, if he looked close enough he could see that her teeth were sharpened.

His eyes take in the hillside and he takes in the piles of bodies around him, he turned quickly on his heel to flee only to be met with a hill of the fallen. Rolph swallows harshly, noticing that his wife and many of his soldiers made up the hill. He slowly turns back to the face the demon that was born from the mist. He watches with widening eyes as the woman let out a ferocious roar, her mouth opening wide to show the sharpened teeth that he had indeed seen and as she came closer, she withdrew her war hammer and started to swing it high in the air. The horse's eyes were black and soulless, causing him to stumble back further.

" _Traitor_ ," A voice whispered harshly.

He felt a breath snarl at his ear causing him to let out a shout and he turned on his heel only to be met with the same hill of the dead, preventing him from escaping. Rolph was trapped, the horse lets out a loud inhuman screech as it neared him and he turned back around to face her approaching him, the horse was picking up speed. He fumbled for his sword but to no avail he could not untie the leather straps in time before the Warrior brought down her hammer on his head, whacking it straight off.

" _Shit!"_

Rolph cursed and opened his bleary eyes, looking frantically around the room that was dimly lit by candlelight and let out a relieved sigh. He was still in his room at the inn, the River Road. Rolph leant back against his pillow with a loud sigh and let his eyes drift close, listening to the delighted moans from the wenches and cheers coming from the drunkards in the tavern. His wife was no doubt amongst them but he found himself caring little for her at that moment. All he cared for was the fact he kept dreaming of that damned woman since the night of the Red Wedding.

Rolph was no fool and he knew that she was hunting down those who partook in the events that led to the death of Princess Myrcella Baratheon, Robb Stark, Catelyn Tully and many others. The barbaric woman was picking them off one by one. First, it was the Frey's, then it was the Whitehill's and he knew fine well who would be next. _Him._ Rolph knew House Baratheon well and he knew that she is saving the biggest players for last in her sickening game.

The grey towers of the Twins no longer held Frey or Lannister banners, he had seen it for himself. The banners that were flying high above the Twins was a black Baratheon stag on a grey field. Amongst all the other banners, the stag was the fiercest and proudest of them all. The banners of _her_ were not the only thing to fly high above the Twins. The decomposing bodies of the hanging Frey's still managed to hang above the Twins and it was a sickening sight but also a terrifying one. If she could that to them, what would she do to him?

 _Boudicca Baratheon, the First of Her Name. The Bringer of Storms. The Queen of the North and the Riverlands. The Storm Queen The Avenger. The Burner of Sigils. The Butcher._

He loathed yet admired the woman in a twisted way, she had bigger balls than any of her and his men combined. Rolph ran a hand through his thinning hair when he heard it, the _screams_ which caused his entire being to still and his heart stopped for a moment before it began to race. It was not the drunken hysterical laughter or screams of euphoria and pleasure he had heard moments ago, it was screams of pain. Of agony. Of bloodshed. Of _death_.

The clash of steel and roars were unmistakable and he knew from the moment he heard those screams what was happening. _She found us,_ he thought. Rolph pulled back the furs and got out of his bed, hurriedly approaching the window, uncaring if Sybil or Lord Gawen were in the tavern where the massacre was taking place. If he was to try and leave any other way, he would be killed and his window was above the stables, which meant he could escape with his life. He pushed open the shutters of the window, allowing a fierce wind and heavy rainfall to enter his room.

Rolph hastily climbed out of the window, before dropping to the entrance of the stables below. He looked around briefly and his eyes widened when he saw the folk in the tavern, mainly his men engaged in battle. His eyes squinted when he caught the sigil on one man's armour. _A stag._ Rolph took in his surroundings before he quickly entered the stables, slamming the small door shut behind him, hoping that no one saw him. He had thought about picking up a sword and helping to defend the tavern from the attack but he knew _who_ was coming, he knew who brought this storm of men and he wanted to be far away from her as possible when she did arrive at the tavern. Besides, he was certain that his men and his children could protect themselves.

He moved over towards his horse and pulled back the heavy iron bolt, unlocking the door to the horse's stall. Rolph patted the mare's neck and as he went to grab the saddle for his horse, the door slowly creaked open behind him, causing him to stiffen. Rolph had little to no time to react before a large dagger was embedded beside the wooden pillar next to his head. His heart raced, thundering against his chest and sweat beaded his forehead as he watched _her_ out the corner of his eye, prowl closer to him like a wolf about to attack its prey.

"Rolph Spicer," The wicked woman taunts. "The new Lord of Castamere. It is a rather fitting title for you."

Rolph stills when he hears her hum, humming the all too familiar song as she nears him. The horse beside him whines and snorts, shifting uncomfortably beside him. _I know,_ he thinks. _I want to flee too._ He eyes her towering figure, casting a dangerous shadow over him. The woman continues to hum the dreadful song as she reaches out and rips the dagger from the wooden pillar before placing it under his neck, the tip of the dagger was at the point of his chin.

"You thought I was _weak_ , a pathetic little girl, you said," Boudicca snarls softly, sounding more wolf than a woman as she growls in his ear. "My heart has been broken and my body has bled, yet it somehow still beats for me. For my people. For my son. Tell me, Lord Spicer...I will tell you what your heart beats for, do you know what your heart beats for? _Nothing._ Will I tell you what your kind is?"

" _Please,_ " Lord Spicer hisses and glares at the wall ahead of him. "Enlighten me."

"A _disease,"_ She seethes and presses her lips to his right ear. "You lot are a disease…and I have come to find that if you _cut_ out the disease, it can't kill you. The last Lord of Castamere drowned…soon, you will too."

Boudicca runs her dagger down his throat, causing his eyes to widen and he let out a short gasp, suddenly finding himself unable to breathe. She moves away from him and he clutches at his throat, running his fingers down the slit in his throat harshly in a desperate attempt to regain the breath he knows that he will never get back. Rolph stumbles to his knees, letting out short gasps and his downcast eyes flicker up to her impassive and cruel face.

The Warrior Queen looked in utter relief, her eyes were closed in complete bliss and her face was relaxed at the fact she had brought an end to his life, she gripped the bloody dagger tightly in her hands as he collapsed to the ground and into a pile of hay, his vision was beginning to darken and he willingly let his eyes close but he caught her last words, the last words she repeated like a mantra of death though he found himself unable to comprehend who or what they were anymore as his hearing started to fade.

 _"House Frey...House Whitehill...House Spicer..."_

* * *

Author's Note: Hey, I hope you like this chapter! I would like to thank all of you for taking the time to read this story, for making it one of your favourites and for following it. I would also like to give massive thanks to everyone who has reviewed, your reviews mean a lot to me. If you have any questions, feel free to ask and the next update should be up soon.

Reviews-

ZabuzasGirl: Thank you! I hope you like this chapter.

RHatch89: Thank you!

WolfWarrior: Thank you, it means a lot to me that you think so! As for what is going on with Jon, I can't say anything at the moment but he will be making his appearance very soon!

xdaniellelsextonx: The only way to keep them safe, in her mind was to send them to the Vale with Sansa's aunt but she was unaware of how much danger she was putting them in. In the true nature of House Baratheon, Boudicca and Stannis will start to clash because of their differences. Stannis, Selyse and Shireen will be making an appearance along with Jon Snow soon.

celticank: Thank you! I loved writing from Cersei's point of view and I hope you like Sansa's point of view in this chapter, there will be a lot more pov's of Sansa to come. As for Boudicca finding out, I can't say much yet but everything will start to come together very soon when the Bolton's get involved once more.

jean d'arc: I'm glad you like Cersei's pov, I loved writing that particular part because it shows there was a time when Joffrey was good and he and Boudicca once had a relationship, because children aren't born evil they are made evil and I wanted to sort of show that bitterness of it through her memory.

JediGemini: I'm glad you liked her revenge and I hope you liked this part with the Spicers! Boudicca will be facing Roose Bolton very soon.


	38. Chapter Thirty Seven

_The Twins_

Boudicca Baratheon

 _Joffrey's dead._

Boudicca remembered a time not long ago, a time when life was once sweet. It was after they had endured a long and heavy rainfall in King's Landing, the first sighting of rain they had not witnessed for moons. Her little brothers, Joffrey and Tommen began to throw mud at her and Myrcella when they entered the Water Gardens with their mother. Her brothers were covered in that much mud she could not tell which part was boy and which part was mud. They had piles of mud gathered in their hands with wide and mischievous grins on their little faces.

Boudicca had chased after Joffrey and Tommen, she chased after them through the Water Gardens and into the Keep until she and Joffrey found themselves in the throne room. It was a never ending game of chase. Boudicca chased him and Joffrey chased her. It was one of those rare and precious memories of her brother that did not leave her bitter. They had rolled around the ground, playing in the mud until they were pulled apart from each other, laughing as they were scolded together.

" _When I am King, I will name you my Hand,"_ Her brother's innocent voice said. " _I don't want smelly old Jon Arryn or horrible uncle Stannis or even stupid uncle Renly, I want you!"_

 _"I cannot be the Hand, Joff,"_ Boudicca had replied. " _I am a girl, the Lords don't listen to girls."_

 _"Then I will make new ones!"_ Her brother proclaimed. " _If they don't listen to us, I will have my Hound deal with them!"_

Joffrey was dead. He had died a horrible and painful death like she had always wanted and prayed for but why was she crying? Boudicca should have felt some form of relief. Yet, she did not, she felt anything but. It did not give her a sense of relief or pleasure or even victory like she once thought it would. The tears kept unwillingly falling from her eyes as she stared in confusion at the tears that were sliding down her pale cheeks and dripping onto the table she was sat at. Why was she crying? Boudicca could not fathom why should waste her tears on the likes of _him._ After everything that he had done to her, that he had done to their sister and brother. What was she weeping for?

" _I love you, Icca!"_

Boudicca knew then what she was weeping for, she was not weeping for King Joffrey nor was she weeping for Prince Joffrey. Boudicca was weeping for her little brother Joff. Innocence lost. That was what she truly wept for, she was weeping for the loss of innocence. The boy she truly wept for would follow her around the castle, trailing at her heels with a wooden sword in his hand, begging her to show him how to sword fight or how to ride a horse. The boy who would jump on her back and she would run through the Keep with him, listening to him squeal in delight when he told her to go faster. The little boy with long hair that she would make flower crowns for and tell stories to, much to their father's dismay and humiliation. The boy of six who would embrace her and tell her that he loved her, always. The boy she was weeping for died a long time ago.

Boudicca lets a small, shuddering sigh escape from her lips and she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and sniffed. She leant back in her chair, propping her leather boots on the table and let her eyes close, letting the cold air of her chambers soothe her aching and tired eyes. A soft knock on her door made her reopen her green eyes and she looked over her shoulder, taking her feet off the table and turned around in the seat and stared at the door as the soft rapping at her chamber door was heard once more.

"Enter," Boudicca ordered.

The door creaked open and her silver haired squire peeked around the door, before entering the room hesitantly with a redness developing on his cheeks as he approached her with a letter in his shaking his hand. He bowed, his hesitant purple meeting her green as he warily handed her the letter, remaining silent. Boudicca took the letter from his hold, thanking him with a small grunt and noticed it was the sigil of House Tully and a small but barely visible smile appeared on her face.

"It is good news, I take it?" She asked, staring at him intently.

"Yes, Your Grace," The boy nodded. "Lord Edmure and Lord Brynden Tully hold Riverrun once more."

"Sit," Boudicca began. "You look exhausted."

"I-I couldn't p-" The boy stammered but she held up her hand, silencing him.

"I said sit," She commands, drawing out the chair next to her and pours another goblet of wine, the only noise shared between them was the wine filling the goblet as she places the sealed letter on the table. Boudicca watches as the boy of a timid disposition sits next to her and with that she passes him his goblet, encouraging him to take a drink as she eyes his wary eyes and pale face. After he takes a sip or two, she hands him the bowl of various berries that she had. "I want you to drink and eat your fill, boy. A squire is an important role and position, is it not?"

"It is, Your Grace," Edric agrees, taking a mouthful of wine as he did so. "Have I done something to displease, Your Grace?"

"Daenerys Targaryen," Boudicca starts, her lips quirking into a small smirk as she looked down at her wine, swirling it around before she takes another sip. "The girl with many fucking titles. Yet this many titled girl has a powerful army and has three dragons. Her army will grow should House Martell and House Tyrell align themselves with her, I would be a fool to think that they would side with me. House Martell would rather fall on their own spears than be an ally of a stag. My father once told me should Viserys and Daenerys Targaryen invade Westeros with Dothraki screamers, the war would be on my shoulders. It seems that a war just may be on my shoulders, the moment that Daenerys has gained a naval fleet, she will sail for Westeros. Do you know anything about the Dothraki, boy?"

"I do not know much about them, Your Grace," The boy began, twiddling his thumbs as he set his goblet down. "I do know that they are nomadic warriors, deadly to encounter. If they invade Westeros, I do not think that they will follow Daenerys Targaryen. A girl can change many things but I doubt she can change an entire culture. No matter what titles they possess, titles are worthless to the lustful. They will travel Kingdom to Kingdom, I think. It will not be the Lords and Ladies behind the castles, it will be the small folk in their villages and towns. They will kill all the men who do not have stone walls, they will rape and enslave the woman and children. I have seen it all too often. The army that Tywin Lannister has is no better than the army Daenerys Targaryen has."

"The small folk are who I truly fear for," Boudicca murmured. "It is not an age of Kings. It is an age of Queens. I want the North, Stormlands and Riverlands. I do not want Westeros. I want our lands free from such reigns. I will defend every man, woman and child who fought in my name and named me their Queen. The small folk have only us, Edric Dayne. I will do what I do best, I will rule."

"Did you ever love Joffrey?" Edric asked suddenly, causing her to stiffen.

"Why do you ask?" She retorts, her voice had suddenly turned small and quiet.

"Ser Davos informed us about Joffrey's death, Your Grace," The purple eyed boy tells her. "You left the hall shortly after."

"My brother has sought after death since childhood," Boudicca sighs, resting her left hand on the table as she stares down at her lap, finding herself able to stare down instead of up towards the boy who was staring at her with a curiosity. "But I did love him once, Edric. This I know. I am the eldest of five yet here I am. My brother, Steffon died a week after he was born. He took to a fever and died. My sister, Myrcella died at nine. She was butchered by the Frey's. My brother, Joffrey died at fourteen. Poisoned."

Boudicca felt tears gather in her eyes, she blinked and shook her head, trying to be rid of them but suddenly the boy rose to his feet and stared at her for a few moments before he lunged for her, wrapping his arms around her as he pulled her into an embrace. The bold move from the normally shy boy shocked her before she slowly sunk into the boy's embrace, remaining silent as a single tear fell from her eye, sliding down her cheek as she let the boy hold her.

* * *

Boudicca held the candle in her right hand as she made her way towards the damp and cold dungeons, the flickering candle gave her little light but she found herself uncaring for it as she trailed down the stone steps. The hot wax dripped onto her fingers and she could feel it beginning to set on her skin but she merely ignored it despite the burning pain. Her eyes remained impassive as she looked towards the guards situated at the black cell and nodded, commanding for him to open the door.

"Your Grace," The bearded man bowed, taking the keys that resembled small bones from his belt.

The red haired guard did as she said and opened the door for her and all she saw was darkness as she entered the dungeon. The only noise was her boots echoing against the wet and cobbled floor, her eyes flicker to a woman chained to a wall by her wrists and approached the large woman until she could feel the woman's breath against her own face.

Boudicca remains silent and cocks her head to the side, a small smile slowly appearing on her face as she raises the flame underneath the woman's chain, letting it burn her before she draws the candle away slightly. The sleeping woman stirs and let out a heavy, strangled moan and her eyes slowly open before she starts to struggle against her bindings like she did earlier.

"I have been so longing to see you," Boudicca muses, bringing the candle further away from the woman's face. "I am glad that Lord Brynden sent you to me. I have wanted this for a long time."

"I-If you kill me," The green eyed woman croaks weakly and eyed her carefully. "Your grandfather and great uncle will kill you. You will become a Kinslayer."

"You forget...my Lady Genna," I am already a Kinslayer. I already killed my uncle and I think I have killed a cousin or two? I can't really say, there is that many Frey and Lannister cunts that I have lost count," Boudicca tells her, dropping the candle to the ground before she roughly grasps the woman's chin firmly and raises it so that their eyes meet once more. "I am _not_ going to kill you. Yet. You will pay first. Your pathetic husband has paid his debt...I enjoyed every squeal that came from his lips. I made a promise to my sister, to my husband and myself that I would kill all of you. What gave _you_ and your maggot of a husband to seat your fucking arses in the great hall of Riverrun. My husband's birthplace...as for my grandfather, he can go fuck himself along with my mother."

"I can see that look in your eye, girl," Her great aunt chuckles, purring each word she spoke. "I can see it. I can see the _lion_...and I do not even have to search for it. I can finally see my dear brother in one of his grandchildren and it had to be you, didn't it? The child that has Baratheon blood. The only grandchild that he would never be disappointed in. Or perhaps it is a _madness?_ After all, you Baratheon's are related to the Targaryen's. I don't care for my pathetic excuse of a husband...I only care for my own life. I bet you didn't know the great plans Tywin had for you, did you? He wanted you to rule Casterly Rock after his passing instead of his youngest son, that says a lot about him. My brother wanted a woman to rule over a man. I never thought I would live to see such days. Tywin once told me that destroying House Reyne of Castamere felt _good_ , did slaughtering House Frey of the Crossing feel good? It must have done, you went on to slaughter House Whitehill and Spicer."

"It didn't feel good, it felt _great._ As did getting rid of House Whitehill and Spicer. I took _nothing_ but pleasure from it. I can relate to my grandfather, I understand now how he felt. It does feel good," Boudicca responds, her voice barely above a whisper as she leans closer towards her great aunt's face. "I made love to Robb because it felt _good._ I drink and swear because it feels _good._ I bathe in the blood of my enemies because it feels _good._ I took to hanging every Frey outside of the Twins while their banners burned and killed Walder Frey's favourite daughter in front of his very eyes while he pleaded for mercy...because it felt _good."_

 _"_ Why'd you do it?" Her great aunt pushed, a sly smile appearing on her lips. "You didn't do it just because it felt good, did you?"

"I want to feel and see their _fear_ and their _pain_ as they died," She breathed, her eyes narrowing as she placed her hands on either side of the wall as she leant in closer towards her aunt. "The same pain I felt watching my husband, my sister and everyone else that I cared for _die._ I wanted them to share it."

"I wonder how it did feel," The woman hummed, her voice laced with amusement. "Your name being the last name uttered from your husband's lips."

Boudicca kept her blank eyes on her aunt's face and watched as Genna winced, she leant closer towards her aunt and pressed a kiss to the corner of her right eye that fluttered shut when she did so before she turned and walked towards a stone table, her fingers trailing on the stone table that was in the middle of the dungeon. Boudicca eyes the various flaying knives and weaponry, a hint of a smile appeared on her face when she picked up a large and sharp dagger before she turned to face her aunt once more, approaching her slowly with the dagger that was raised to her face.

As she grew closer to the blonde haired woman, she thrusts the dagger forward and stabs it into the wall close to her great aunt's right ear, causing the woman's smug smirk to fade. The woman let out a shrill shriek of fright and attempts to move away, her eyes looking to the dagger before her frightened face turns slowly into one of satisfaction and she begins to laugh, throwing her head back against the wall as her laughter echoed throughout the chambers. The laughter does not phase her and she merely lifts a brow, staring at the woman who continues to laugh bitterly.

"I told them that I would massacre the whole lot them...that I would have their skin," Boudicca informed her.

"Go ahead, kill me. It won't bring back your dead husband or sister. You are wasting your time letting me rot. I have no information that you do not already know and you won't get any satisfaction from my death," Her great aunt spits, her eyes filled with fire and hate. "You will go to the deepest, darkest part of the Hells. The Gods will see to it, girl. I can assure you. You will be joining everyone you deem enemy in the Hells. Your husband and sister were too gentle for this world..."

"The Hells?" Boudicca murmurs, her downcast eyes slowly trailing back up to meet her great aunt's eyes and a small but sad smile appeared on her face then. "I already live in _my_ hell and I have suffered through it since the day of my birth. My father is dead. Robb is dead. Myrcella is dead. Joffrey is dead. I most likely will never see my son nor brother again. I have nothing left to lose. If the so called Gods are real ad if they had any mercy, why is the world filled with such cruelty? Why do the Gods allow the good and faithful people die? Why are the Gods allowing monsters who rape and murder to live? Why did the Gods let my sister and my husband die but let me live? I am a Kinslayer...Is that what the justice of the Gods is? Is it killing the people I love to punish me? The Seven are meant to be merciful, are they not? Where was my mercy? Where was my sister's mercy? Why is the world so full of injustice?"

"You know why," Lady Genna sneers fiercely. "It is people like _you_ that bring injustice into the world."

"I am a stag and a lion," She replies dismissively. "The world will never see my kind again."

Boudicca ignores the wild blonde woman's curses and vile words that could rival her own as she turns, making her way towards the cell door. Her great aunt struggles against the chains that held her to the wall, they rattled as she let out fierce cries. Boudicca grasps a hold of the cell door and slowly closes it behind her, encasing everything in her great aunt Genna's cell in darkness. Her eyes landed on the guard that remained standing by the door and she nods, trailing up the steps as the guard locks the cell door behind her.

* * *

 _The Eyrie_

Sansa Stark

"You wanted to see me, aunt Lysa?"

 _Ned,_ Sansa thought. _She has Ned._ That was all Sansa could focus on as she stilled and eyed the auburn haired woman, who had tears sliding down her pale cheeks as she stood above the moon door, rocking Ned gently in her arms. Her nephew was letting out small, frightened wails that chilled her to the bone as she watched her aunt Lysa attempting to quieten him, letting out soft sobs of her own. Her entire body had stiffened and she unable to move as she looked at how dangerously close her aunt Lysa was to edge of the moon door. _She has Ned,_ she thinks once more and repeats it like a mantra. Her aunt Lysa's eyes were manic and filled with paranoia.

"Ned," Her aunt begins, not looking up from little Ned's sweet and pink face. "He looks like Catelyn, doesn't he? He looks like me too. He could have been my boy."

"Aunt Lysa," Sansa starts, looking on at the shaking woman with wariness as she takes a step closer towards the deranged woman, tenderly touching her bruised wrists as she did so. The woman had attacked her last night, claiming all sorts of horrible things about her relationship with Boudicca and Lord Baelish. "It is time for his feed, where is his wet nurse? Where is Clara? I have not seen her this morning nor did I see her last night. He had to be fed goat's milk."

" _Gone,_ " Her aunt replies vaguely before she turns and looks at her. "Come here, sweet girl."

 _Protect my boy,_ Boudicca's voice echoes in her mind. _Take care of Ned for me._ All Sansa wanted to do was rip Ned away from her manic arms and take him away from the Eyrie, she would rather be at the Wall with Jon or back at the Twins with Boudicca, uncaring if it was safe. Lord Baelish had made her uncomfortable since her arrival and when she was alone, his passes at her had gotten particularly bad. He had _kissed_ her that morn despite her unwillingness. There was a desire in Petyr Baelish's eyes and she did not like it. It was a desire for chaos.

Oh, how she wished for Boudicca to come for them and for Jon, she wished to see the only brother that remained to her. It would be sweet. If Boudicca and Jon met, she would feel safer than she ever has. Sansa sucks in a small breath and does as her aunt bids and slowly makes her way towards them until she is standing directly at her aunt Lysa's side, hesitantly looking down the moon door and when she did, she felt sick and quickly averted her eyes back to her auburn haired aunt and to her nephew.

"W-What do you mean by _gone?"_ Sansa asked hesitantly. "It is time for his feed that is why he is-"

"Do you know how far the fall is?" Lysa interrupts abruptly.

"No," Sansa responds. "May I get-"

"I do not know either. It has to be at least a few hundred feet," Her aunt says, clutching onto Ned tighter which makes her heart race frantically. "I know what happens to the bodies when they hit the rocks from such height...I suppose babes would crack like eggs do when they drop onto the floor. They always are such delicate creatures. I always imagined what it would be like to go to the bottom and watch someone as they fall...perhaps I will find a pretty head with auburn hair intact...I know what you did, Sansa."

"I-I am sorry, aunt Lysa...I should never have hit Robin. I could not help it. Can I have Ned back? I need to get him food...I need to get him to Lady Clara," Sansa said hastily, her breath laboured as made a desperate attempt to take Ned from her aunt Lysa's arms but her aunt's wide blue eyes narrowed and she took a step away from her, holding Ned a bit tighter to her chest as she stared at her with poison in her eyes. "Please! Please, aunt Lysa! Let him go!"

"You are playing coy, you little bitch!" Lady Lysa hissed, tears falling from her bloodshot and swollen blue eyes. Her auburn haired aunt took another dangerous step towards the moon door, the harsh wind was blowing their auburn hair and for a moment their hair looked like fire, dancing wildly within the wind. Her eyes were focused solely on Ned as he began to wail, his cries echoing throughout the Vale. _He does not like the wind,_ she thinks. _The wind has always frightened him._ "I saw you with my Petyr. You kissed him. _You kissed him!_ You cannot lie to me because I saw it with my own eyes! I saw it-"

"Aunt Lysa, I pulled away-"

" _Liar, liar, liar!_ " Her aunt screeches, her eyes wild and filled with hate as she holds a squirming Ned, high in the air causing her heart to pound in her chest and a sweat to bead itself along her brow as she watched her aunt with tears in her eyes, unable to do anything but watch the deranged woman. "You are a whore! He is _mine_! I will show you the consequences of standing between me and Petyr! I will show you just like I showed that whore he was bedding! Look at him! _Watch_!"

" _No!_ " Sansa screams.

Her aunt raises Ned above her head and that is when she let out a piercing scream, knowing what her aunt was about to do and raised her arms up, struggling viciously against her aunt Lysa's tight grip on Ned as he continued to wail loudly, his cries echoing in her ears and with that, she grasped a hold of the brown bundle he was wrapped in and shoved her aunt Lysa harshly with a fierce cry. Sansa held little Ned close to her chest and watched with wide and frightful eyes as her aunt began to lose her footing and fell from the ledge of the moon door. Her aunt's sickened screams were all she could hear as she stared on in horror at what she had done. The act of desperation had her kill her own blood. Ned continued to cry loudly as she let out relieved sobs of her own, unable to get over the horror of it as her knees began to buckle and her vision started to blur.

"Sansa-" A voice called, causing her to look over her shoulder slowly. _Lord Baelish._

 _We cannot stay here,_ Sansa thought frantically as she stared hesitantly at Lord Baelish, who had a brow raised and a lecherous smile as he approached. Sansa turned sharply on her heel and ran, her dark green cloak whipping harshly in the wind as she fled up the stairs, stumbling ever so often on a step when her dress caught her foot but nevertheless she kept running up the flight of stairs, ignoring Lord Baelish as he called after her.

"Ser Barristan!" She cried. " _Ser Barristan!"_

Sansa kept running and turned down the left hall, towards Ser Barristan's chambers with tears falling from her eyes as she frantically called for the man with nothing but a mantra in her mind, begging for her to flee. _We need to go. We need to leave. If we stay, we die. There is only one place we can go,_ Sansa Stark thought as she made her way towards Ser Barristan's chambers, clutching Ned tighter while she wept with nothing but an intent on her mind as she passed two guards.

 _To the Wall. To Jon Snow. To my brother._

* * *

Author's Note: Hey, I hope you like this chapter! I would like to thank all of you who have read this story, who have made this story one of your favourites and have followed it. I would like to give massive thanks to everyone who has left a review, it means a lot to me to get them. If you have any questions regarding this chapter or anything else, let me know and I'll do my best to answer them. Let me know what you think of Boudicca's character development and the next update should be up soon!

Reviews-

ZabuzasGirl: Thank you! I hope you like this update as for Littlefinger's plans, you will have to wait and see!

RHatch89: Thank you!

celticank: I hope you like this chapter! As for Boudicca finding about Jon, you will have to wait and see! Arya will be following her canon story but they might meet again.

Guest: Thanks!

PotterxBreifsxUchihaxKiryuu: Thank you! Another battle will be coming up soon with Boudicca but I won't say who she will be up against yet! I'm glad that you think Ned is adorable and I'm glad you like my portrayal of Sansa, at first I wasn't sure how I should portray her but I hope I did her character justice.

ElectraHeartTrash: Thank you, it means a lot to me that you think so and I hope you like this chapter! I felt it was the right choice to make about Robb's death in order for her to become the Warrior Queen but he will make appearances every now and then in her dreams. I'm glad you like vengeful Boudicca, I wanted her to take a darker turn and I hope you like it.

sankhadeep dutta: I hope you like this chapter! I can't say much without giving a bit of the plot away but I can say that Boudicca will be like Robert and pine after Robb like Robert did Lyanna and she will have to remarry someone for the sake of alliances but I won't be saying who. I can't tell you how Boudicca will react yet if she finds out but I can tell you that they won't clash.


	39. Chapter Thirty Eight

_Moat Cailin_

Davos Seaworth

The army kept marching on wards towards Moat Cailin, despite darkness having claimed day and the cold rain that pelted them. No matter how fierce the wind was blowing, how hard the rain fell or how dangerous their path was they kept journeying north to Moat Cailin where Ramsay Bolton was meant to be residing. The treacherous conditions would have made most men wary but not the woman that rode ahead of her army on a steed, black as night itself. The light grey cloak whipped fiercely behind her as she drove her favoured warhorse northward. Davos and the War Council consisting of Stormlands, Riverlands and Northern houses alike had to keep up with her harsh pace.

 _It will be a long and dreadful night,_ he thought as he urged his horse to go faster. _A bloody one._

After they had received the news from Lady Wylla Manderly from White Harbour about the whereabouts of Ramsay Bolton, his Queen had decided it would be best to take Moat Cailin and capture Ramsay Bolton. The army was tired but the determination within they held kept them going after their long and perilous journey of ten days. The world was sombre and as the army came to an abrupt halt, Davos rode for his Queen Boudicca who was staring out towards Moat Cailin, that was hidden by darkness with a dark intent in her eyes.

"Boudicca," Davos began.

"My Onion Knight," She murmured, her voice low and hoarse. "What say you?"

"Boudicca," He started. "I think we should wait until dawn. The horses and men are tired."

"You are tired. I am tired," Boudicca responded. "We are all tired."

 _I know,_ he thought with a frown. _You have been tired for a long time. All true smiles left your face the moment Myrcella died. And all smiles left mine when yours died._ It hurt them both to think about the sweet blonde haired girl but he dared not mention her name to the dark haired woman that looked more fierce some each passing day. He had a wife and sons once but his sons were dead and he had not spoken to his wife in years. He had his doubts she would ever speak to him again.

 _It's your fault,_ she hissed at him when discovering their sons deaths. _All your fault._ The woman at his side was beautiful, to the Southern climate that preferred delicate and silk did not understand her nor fathom how much beauty she held. The women in the South had lithe figures, silken dresses and flowers in their hair. She did not. Instead, she takes to wearing armour rather than silk and has a crown of iron resting on her dark locks. Davos did not admire her for that. He admired her for much more.

"We will _not_ retire for the night. Tonight we will strike. No matter what happens," His Queen continued. "I will have that bastard brought to me in chains."

The walls of the ancient stronghold, Moat Cailin were an imposing sight to behold as they travelled down the hill. The three towards were a foreboding sight to behold as he caught glimpses of them in the darkness. The first tower was the Gatehouse Tower that held the walls he could see and the second one was slanted as if it was ready to fall and he wondered if the weight of their attack would cause it to do so. Out of the three towers, Davos preferred the third tower that was tall and the turret reminded him of a crown. It would be a great difficult trying to cross to Moat Cailin as the army of six thousand she had brought with her would have to wade through mud and water that by the looks of it, would reach their knees.

"Your brother..." Davos began.

The ride from the Twins had not been comfortable. The news of Joffrey's death had worsened the tension when it came to Boudicca. He had not talked about her brother and was wary about doing but felt it was necessary for him to do so as her Hand. It was, after all, her brother who had been poisoned. He thought back to the argument his Queen and Lord Penrose shared at the War Council and given how horrible the council meeting went earlier that day, he thought it best to make sure she was certain before she made an ill judgement due to her emotions.

"What of Tommen?" Boudicca asked, her voice seemed almost mocking. "He is safe in the Vale along with Ned and Sansa. I do not wish to think about them."

"You miss them?" Davos guessed, hoping that she thought he was talking about them instead of him. "It is not a crime to let tears shed."

"I have no more tears left to shed," She said.

"My Queen!" A hurried voice exclaimed, startling him as he watched Lord Penrose ride forward. "Moat Cailin. The horses-"

"I am aware, Lord Penrose," Boudicca retorted, lifting a brow towards the large man on the speckled brown horse. "I suggest you calm yourself."

"My Queen, we must take Moat Cailin while it sleeps!" Lord Penrose told her. "This is the moment. Not later. _Now_. After taking Moat Cailin, I suggest you said ravens to the Crownlands. No longer do they have a King to turn to. King's Landing is in chaos. All the alliances that House Lannister made are in near ruins. Your brother's death is our first and last chance! Now that the Tyrell's and Lannisters no longer have a pact, we can make one with them. The Tyrell's have a son. You are a widowed woman and a _Queen._ If you make their son your King and consort, it will strengthen our power and force."

"The Queen has lost her brother," Davos said firmly. "She has lost her husband. Let her mourn. Alliances can be sorted after the siege."

"If you marry Willas Tyrell the armies of the Reach will be yours, my Queen," Lord Penrose argued. "It will be what is best for our Kingdoms."

"The Queen will not sell herself to House Tyrell just to gain a few more numbers," Lord Brynden retorted, riding to their side. "Why would a Queen marry a _flower_?"

Davos was about to interrupt but he stilled, noticing Boudicca turn to face Brynden Tully. His Queen eyed him with care, though her eyes were furious and he could see the pain in them. A pain that he has not seen in moon's worth as it was always hidden under that armour she wore. The Warrior Queen and the Blackfish shared a knowing glance, causing him to stiffen on his horse that nickered softly. _What is it that is being said but unspoken?_ Davos thought, his brows furrowing in confusion as he stared at them. _Who is she to marry? What pact has she made? What cards has she dealt? What pawns has she moved?_

"It's time..." Boudicca announced, her voice causing the night to go still that even the storm had somehow stopped.

Boudicca urged her horse forward as the army had come to a halt behind them. He watched in wonder as the green eyed woman withdrew her war hammer and raised it high in the air, lightning struck then causing a few of the horses to startle along with his own. He hushed it, patting the white haired horse's neck and his eyes widened when her fierce eyes looked across the army, staring each man in the face as she readied for the attack.

"Tonight-" Boudicca roared fiercely, gripping her war hammer in both hands. "We will gorge on their blood!"

* * *

Boudicca Baratheon

Boudicca rode hard, the hooves of her horse thundered against the ground before she collided with the water, the cold water had startled her horse but nevertheless, she kept urging her horse forward towards Moat Cailin. The stronghold was startled as she heard panicked voices ahead of them and the gates to Moat Cailin opened. The charge Blackfish lead on the east side was growing closer towards Moat Cailin.

The Bolton soldiers were defending the gate as soldiers marched out of the gate and took a stance, the archers were in the towers and were taking aim and firing burning arrows at them. The fire from the arrows lit up the night's sky. House Umber lead the charge on the west side and House Mormont were charging from behind the ancient stronghold, trapping the Bolton army within Moat Cailin. Boudicca grew closer and that is when she collided with the Bolton's with a piercing scream.

Boudicca gripped the reins, pulling her horse back from the swords and axes that were swung at her. Her war hammer rose and fell as she battered the Bolton soldiers. She brought another man down with a single strike from her hammer, knocking his head from his shoulders. Boudicca looked around and caught sight of her Onion Knight, ordering her men forward while he kept them in the formation that she and her War Council had agreed on to lay waste to Moat Cailin and the Bolton soldiers residing in it.

 _Ramsay Snow,_ Boudicca thought as she stared on at Moat Cailin. _Where are you?_

She brought down her war hammer on another soldier that neared her before raised her hammer in the air and roared for her footmen to advance. The men leapt out from behind the cavalry forces and charged towards the gate, crashing into the soldiers defending the gate. Boudicca caught sight of Tom Sevenstrings and gave him a nod to sound the horn that would let House Mormont and Umber know it was the right time to charge.

She cut through her enemies, spurring her horse forward through the cold waters of Moat Cailin as she neared the gate. In the corner of her eye, she caught a large figure on horseback charging for her with a lance. Boudicca turned her horse to face the man, her eyes remaining on the monstrous figure as his large horse flew at her with great speed.

Before the soldier could reach her, a figure hit them in the side and brought them to the side causing her eyes to widen and she urged her horse closer to them as she watched the two men wrestle. The man's hood was pulled back revealing a pair of eyes that were all too familiar. _This is Roose Bolton's bastard,_ she thought and her features pursed into a snarl when she stared at the leering man. The man that helped her wrestled with the Bastard of Dreadfort until Ramsay Snow's sword slipped from his fingers but she stiffened, noticing another man on horseback charge for them with his sword raised with the intent to bring down the man hidden under the helm.

"Faster!" She hissed, hitting her ankle against the horse as the horse raced towards them. " _Hurry_!"

Boudicca kept her eyes focused on the Knight and the Bolton Bastard and let out a scream when the Bolton soldier got to them first and brought his sword down, striking the man off of Ramsay. His helm flew from his head, revealing his face as he collapsed to the ground. Her bottom lip trembled as she let out an anguished cry, staring at Ramsay Snow who looked up at her with a smirk before he knocked the man from his horse and mounted it, racing off into the woods and disappeared into the darkness.

 _Go after him,_ her mind spat. _Bring him back in chains._

 _Do not,_ her heart called to her. _He is not worth it. He lost Moat Cailin._

"Harwin!" Boudicca cried, dismounting from her horse.

Boudicca was tired. The only thing that kept her going was her determination to reach Ser Harwin. She fought through the water and mud, her armour weighing her down as she tried to get to him. Boudicca approached the brown haired man and fell to her eyes knees, wrapping her arms around him and brought his body up so that his head was resting on her shoulder. Boudicca listened with care above the screams and the steel clashing against steel for his breathing. The man was still breathing but it was ragged and he remained unconscious from the heavy blow.

 _He's alive,_ she thought in relief. His wound was not a fatal wound that she was certain as she took in her blood and mud covered hand and pressed against his arm to stop the bleeding. Boudicca looked around frantically, in search for Ser Davos or Blackfish but could not find them. A man on horseback rode up to her and at first, she tensed but when she noticed it was Lord Manderly, she rose to her feet and hoisted Ser Harwin up as she did so.

"Queen Boudicca-" Lord Manderly began but she interrupted him.

"Take him," She ordered.

Her voice was hoarse and breathless as Lord Manderly reached down and helped her throw Ser Harwin onto his horse, he clutched the man and rode off, away from the battle. Her heart raced in her chest as she watched them leave but she turned to see the position of her army. The slanted tower had long since fallen, crushing men and horse alike that were unfortunate enough to be under it at the time. The fighting was beginning to die down but her eyes caught sight of the man that had attempted to kill Ser Harwin, she gripped her hammer and walked towards him as he tried to crawl away.

"No-"

He had no time to plead for his life as she brought down her war hammer on his face. Boudicca stared down at him before she turned and walked away, heading towards the gate at the moat. A Bolton soldiers ran at her and she ran at him, the collision brought them to the water and she lost her grip on her bloodied hammer. The man had managed to grasp a hold of her and wrapped his arm around her neck, choking her before he brought her face into the water, attempting to drown or strangle her. Or perhaps both. She struggled, wrestling in his hold but he was strong and she could feel herself slipping into unconsciousness. Boudicca stared into the depths of the murky water before she caught sight of a sharp rock and grasped for it, bringing it up from the water to the man and stabbed him with it, causing his grip around her neck to slacken.

The rock pierced the man's neck, killing him in an instant. However, the man that had attempted to end her life collapsed on top of her. Boudicca struggled against the weight of the corpse but her arms were weak. She kicked her legs with what let strength she had left and propped her elbows up, pushing the corpse further away from her and let it sink into the mud. A horn sounded, causing her to stiffen as she stood. It was not Tom's horn nor was it House Umber's. It was a louder horn and the horn deafened her as it filled the cold air of the night.

Boudicca caught sight of the men charging down the hill, hundreds if not thousands strong. All of them were mounted on horses and their armour was a dark green. At first, she thought it was more soldiers from House Bolton but when she saw the banners that were raised high in the air, lit by the torches some of them carried it brought a laugh from her. The banners that were riding with the wind were a dark green with a black lizard. It was the sigil of House Reed.

" _For the North!"_

The soldiers of House Reed raced passed her on their horses and crashed towards Moat Cailin, riding them of many Bolton soldiers in doing so. All she could do was watch in awe at the fight in front of her. Boudicca ignored everything that was happening around her and focused on getting into Moat Cailin. She made her way forward, reaching down and grasping an axe from the back of a man and grasped it with both hands as she trekked through the mud. Boudicca's heart was thundering in her chest as she let out heaving breaths as she made her way towards the collapsed gate.

"Get on!" A voice roared and she turned, her eyes landing on Smalljon who rode up to her with his hand held out.

She gripped his wrist and the old and gruff man hoisted her up onto his horse. Boudicca swung her legs round and gripped the horse's side with her thighs and placed a hand on Smalljon right shoulder as they rode towards Moat Cailin. As they rode through the gate, the remaining Bolton soldiers that had survived knew the siege had been won and some dropped their weapons fell to their knees while others tried to flee. The inside of the stronghold was worse than the battlefield with bodies decorating the ground that the horse was stepping on corpses instead of stone.

"My men..." She trailed off.

"They're tough lads!" Smalljon replied as he urged the horse to stop. "They'll recover."

Boudicca dismounted from the horse and took in her surroundings, she watched as some of her soldiers let the Bolton sigil drop to the ground with a thud and she watched with a satisfied smile as the sigils of House Baratheon and Stark were raised. Boudicca took a burning torch from a stone wall and walked towards the Bolton banners that were piled on the ground and dropped the torch on them, watching with an impassive stare as it burned. A man approached her and she turned, taking in the sight of Ser Davos, covered in blood and mud.

"My Onion Knight," Boudicca began. "Ramsay Snow-"

"I know," He replied gruffly. "Although we did not capture him, we captured something of his."

"What?" She asked.

" _Reek!"_ A voice screeched. " _My name is Reek!"_

Boudicca's brows furrowed as she listened to the man Mors Umber was dragging across to her. The man sounded like a distressed animal and she raised a brow, staring down at the man that was dragging across the stone ground. Mors growled at the man, giving him a rough shake as he began to frantically struggle against him. Boudicca stiffened when she caught sight of the man's face and her jaw slackened as she took in his lean figure and dark hair that was hanging in front of his black and hollow eyes that once held pride. The smug smile had been wiped from his face and now as he was thrown before her, all she could do was stare down at him in shock.

"Theon," Boudicca murmured, causing him to stiffen. "Theon Greyjoy."

"Reek..." The man whimpered, lifting his head weakly to stare. "Not Theon. Reek."

* * *

Theon Greyjoy

"You think I care for the likes of _him_?" The dark haired Queen seethed, her voice wavering from the rage she no doubt felt. "I care not. He is a turn cloak. He will be executed at dusk."

Theon looked up from the stone floor at her judgement and settled his fearful gaze on the Queen of the North. He could not move his hands nor feet as they were chained, the iron shackles were weighing his tired arms down and he felt a sword pressing into the back of his neck as he knelt before the fierce some Warrior Queen. The sword at his neck did not nick his skin but the threat was there if he made a wrong move. As he stared at her in the darkness, he thought back to his cell where Ramsay had flayed and tortured him for moon's worth until he was nothing more than a shadow of his former self.

The siege on Moat Cailin was harsh, no Bolton soldiers survived and those that did were flayed and were hanging above the stronghold. Ramsay Bolton had left him behind and that is when Mors Umber captured him. At first, he thought the man was Euron and was tempted to rip the eye patch from the man's ageing face. The man stared down at him fiercely causing him to wince and he let out a small and pitiful whimper.

" _You reek..."_ Ramsay taunted. " _Ah, reek! It rhymes with freak! Reek the Freak!"_

Theon was no longer proud, he had no reason to be as it was stripped away and by the looks of it, the Queen was not proud either. The woman was not the same woman he had met at Winterfell. This was a woman who had a voice that could launch a thousand ships into war. A strength that could crush mountains and tame seas. This woman did not demand respect, she commanded it and he was fearful of it.

"Are you sure that is wise?" Came the voice of a bearded man. "He is of House Greyjoy. He would be worth more to us alive rather than dead."

"I care not for what house he hails from," She retaliated. "He murdered Bran and Rickon. He betrayed House Stark. He betrayed Robb. He is _nothing_ but a turn cloak."

 _Yes,_ he agreed with eagerness. _I am nothing. A reek. It rhymes with freak._ Theon shifted slightly, his chains creating a small noise as a bitter laugh escaped from his pale lips as tears welled up in his eyes as he thought on Bran and Rickon and _Robb._ They were his _true_ brothers. Even Jon Snow. His true father was beheaded. His true family were the Stark's of Winterfell. Yet he could never have been a Stark. After everything that he has done, he deserved this. He deserved it.

If Boudicca Baratheon was the one to give justice to all those he had wronged, then so be it. He would accept it but Theon could not help but long for kinder times. He wished for them. He dreamt of finding a home in Winterfell, where he was not a Ward and had the name Theon Stark instead of Greyjoy. That he was a wolf. That his words were _Winter is Coming._ He dreamt of the Stark children, of Bran and Rickon, of Sansa and Arya, of Robb. He dreamt of them safe and alive. _You are my brother, Theon,_ Robb had told him. _In all but blood._

"The turn cloak bastard is worth more to us alive!" A man that looked eerily like Lady Catelyn snarls, slamming his clenched fist on the table causing him to wince and tremble before them. He still was unable to meet Boudicca's furious green eyes. The woman's eyes once held so much hope and pride but now they hold nothing but fury and pain. "I want nothing more than to behead him myself but we cannot. He knows about Ramsay and Roose Bolton. He knows of Dreadfort and Winterfell. He knows of the walls, the chambers, the halls, the crypts, the hidden passages and the people. He knows of their tactics, Boudicca."

"Ramsay is a _bastard,"_ Boudicca sneers, looking to the blue eyed man. "Robb and I ruled the North. We did not name him Bolton. He is a _Snow._ A bastard."

"You have to call him _Bolton!"_ Theon said frantically, his eyes wide as he looked at her. "You can't call him _Snow._ He hurts those that call him that..."

"I would like to see the _bastard_ try," She responds.

 _I will fuck her bloody and then give her throat a red smile. After that, I will feed her flesh to my hounds._ He recalled Ramsay's threat. Theon looked up with hooded eyes towards the enraged woman, who had a large dagger clenched in her hands, her knuckles had long since turned white from the tight hold she no doubt had on it. The blood that was covering her face made her look feral along with the wildness in her eyes and the untameable curls of dark hair she had did not help. Theon began to laugh at the thought of her terror. He could never picture what a terrified Baratheon would look like.

"What the fuck are you laughing at, turn cloak?" Lord Mors Umber spits, his thunderous eye on him. "This is no laughing matter, _boy!"_

"T-Theon," He murmured. _Who?_ His mind questioned. _Your name is not Theon, it is Reek. Your name is Reek, it rhymes with freak._ "M-My name is Theon."

"I know. You are also a turn cloak," Boudicca snapped. "You killed Bran and Rickon-"

"I didn't kill them," Theon said, his voice small and quiet. It was not Bran and Rickon he had killed. It was not their bodies that were burnt and were hanging above Winterfell. It wasn't them. It was two orphaned boys that took their place. He did not know where Bran and Rickon were but a part of him hoped that they were safe and _hoped_ that they would forgive him. _I was wrong,_ he thought with tears in his eyes. It did not right his wrongs though by keeping Bran and Rickon alive he killed two innocent orphaned boys in their place. "I-I didn't kill them."

"W-What?" Boudicca asked, her voice barely a whisper and sounded almost child like reminded him that she was a girl he once knew, if only for a time but as he looks up, he can see an innocence in her eyes that hardens once more as their eyes meet. " _What?_ "

"I deserve it...I deserve it..." He mumbled, shaking his head vigorously as he clenched his eyes shut. "I deserve it...I killed Ser Rodrik...Maester Luwin is dead...I betrayed Robb...I killed those boys..."

"Those boys?" She hisses, her voice cold as she rises from her seat and slowly walks down the steps to approach him but he keeps repeating his mantra, shaking his head to rid himself of her cruel and vicious voice. Her voice was the horrible truth. He wanted to be told lies. " _Those boys_ were Bran and Rickon Stark. Those boys were Robb's brothers. Those boys were _your_ brothers. Those boys were innocent _children_!"

"T-They...They weren't..." Theon denied.

The Queen was like a prowling wolf as she moved towards him and in that moment, she attacked. Boudicca threw herself atop of his frail body, grasping his dark green tunic that was loosely hanging on his body and pulled him up to her, until her nose was pressing harshly against his own. Her warm but sweet smelling breath hit his face as she breathed harshly, trying to control herself as she shook him and began to scream at him, tears gathering in her eyes.

"Why did you do it?" She screamed as she shook him harshly. "Why did you betray Robb? Why did you betray Lord Stark? Why did you kill Bran and Rickon? What did they do to deserve that? _Tell me!_ "

"I didn't kill Bran and Rickon!" He roared, causing her to fall silent as she stiffened above him. "It was two farm boys...It wasn't them...I don't know where Bran and Rickon are..."

" _Liar!"_ The Queen growled.

The bearded man approached and lifted her from him, wrapping an arm around her but nevertheless her eyes were trained on him, casting him the coldest of glares but he could see tears in her eyes as Ser Davos Seaworth murmured words to her that went unheard. It was the same tears he had and this time, he let them shed as quiet sobs of guilt racked his aching and weak body. It has been a long time since someone had treated him like a human and not like a pet or a slave like Ramsay did. The Queen had long since regained her composure as she stared down at him, her brows furrowed and confliction was present in her green eyes that no longer held fury.

" _I'm sorry_..." He wept, her breath hitched when he spoke. "I'm sorry..."

"What will be done with him?" Mors Umber demanded. "If his claims are true, what about the Stark boys?"

"I want Theon confined to a tent, send a healer to tend to his...ailments...I am sure Maester Timon will be able to," Boudicca ordered. "And I want ravens sent. I want them _found._ "

"I wouldn't keep _him_ alive," A girl told Boudicca. _A Mormont,_ he thought as he took in the bear sigil on her cloak. The coldness in the fierce girl's voice made him wince but she reminded him too much of another fierce girl he once knew. "Lord Eddard Stark would have had him slain. That is how justice is done in the North. You should give him to the Old Gods of the North for what he has done to Winterfell. You are the Queen, what do you rule?"

The ravens that surrounded them in Moat Cailin as they pecked at the flesh of the fallen, cawed and flapped their wings. It seemed that they were awaiting Queen Boudicca's judgement as she remained silent, staring down at him with impassive eyes that gave nothing about what she felt away. _Kill,_ one raven seemed to hiss. _Free,_ another one squealed. _Queen,_ the rest cawed. Boudicca walked forward until she stood in front of his kneeling figure and bent down, gripping his chin and raised his head to look at her face that held a firmness that reminded him too much of Lord Stark, causing him to wince in her hold.

"You kneel before us as _Reek-"_ Boudicca told him. "You will rise as Theon Greyjoy."

 _Theon Greyjoy. You know my name,_ he wanted to scream from pure ecstasy at someone finally saying his true name. _You said my name, you know my name._

* * *

Author's Note: Hey, I hope you like this chapter and the siege on Moat Cailin. I would like to thank all of you for reading this story, for making it one of your favourites and for following this story. I would also like to give massive thanks to everyone who has left a review, they mean a lot to me. If you have any questions feel free to ask or if you have any theories on what the exchange between Boudicca and Blackfish was, let me know! And the next update should be up soon!

Reviews-

sankhadeep dutta: Thank you! I hope you like this new chapter. I take a lot of things from the book and the show so characters that haven't appeared in the show, will be making appearances in this story. Willas has had a mention a few times but he will be making a small appearance along with Garlan in future chapters.

celticank: Thanks! An appearance with the Lannister's should be in a chapter soon!

ZabuzasGirl: Thank you! Yep, she did do what needed to be done but it will have consequences.

RHatch89: Thanks!

Guest: Jon will be making an appearance very soon!

birdy: I hope you like this chapter!

Guest 2: Thank you!

Lysa: Thank you, it means a lot to me that you think so! I'm glad you love Boudicca and little Ned. As for Sansa's fate, I cannot tell you for certain what will happen. There will be a Jaime/Boudicca scene soon. I sometimes do dream and flashback scenes and there will be a chapter showing the relationship between the uncle and niece.

jean d'arc: Thank you, I'm glad you like that side to her. I sent Lysa flying! However, what Sansa did will not be forgotten and a lot of things will happen because of it.

PotterxBreifsxUchihaxKiryuu: Thank you! I'm glad you like how I portray Sansa, I always try and make the characters sound and act as they are in both the books and the show. This Sansa, I have sort of taken how she acts in the books more than she acts in the show. I can't mention anything yet about what will happen between Boudicca and Daenerys but I can reveal that there will be a pov with Daenerys very soon! I hope you liked her siege on Moat Cailin.


	40. Chapter Thirty Nine

_Moat Cailin_

Boudicca Baratheon

It was the soft murmuring of her name and the arms that tightened around her waist, pulling her closer into their warmth that had stirred Boudicca from her dreamless sleep. Her breath hitched as she eventually opened her eyes, taking in her surroundings with confusion as she stared at the bookcase and burning fire ahead of her. Boudicca let her hand rest against their chest while she raises her head to meet the bright blue eyes she had come to miss more than anything. _Robb._ Her brows furrowed as she pulled herself out of his grip and sat up, letting the furs slide down from her warm and sweat covered skin as she stared at him in disbelief before she comes to her senses.

 _This is a dream_ , Boudicca concludes sorrowfully as she takes in his smiling face that never fades. _I am alive and you are dead._ Robb reaches up and when he does so, she grabs his large hand with both her shaking ones and brings his hand to cup her face while she stares at him in fear, frightened that he would disappear like he has done in her other dreams of him. For a moment, for a small moment, she was convinced this was _real_ and he was beside her but both the Gods and life were not that kind. _I'm dreaming._ Boudicca rubs her face against his hand, inhaling the familiar smell of leather, burnt wood and rain that she had missed so much.

"My Warrior Queen," Robb muttered. "My strong Boudicca."

"Robb," Boudicca laments, her voice smaller than it ever has been as she tries to hold back her tears. "Our babe...Our little boy-"

"It's alright," He whispered, his voice hoarse as he stroked her top lip with his thumb. "It will be alright, Boudicca."

"It hurts so much, Robb..." Boudicca states, letting out a small sob from the ache that had formed in her chest. "It never goes away...The pain...Why won't it stop, Robb? I wish...I wish I couldn't feel anything."

Robb falls silent and his lips lean up to meet her own with a gentleness that she has not felt in a long time since his death, which makes her embrace his touch all the more. Boudicca lets herself collapse into his hold as he trails his hands down and she grips his wrists, leading his hands up to cup her breasts as she pulls herself towards him, straddling his waist as she deepens the kiss.

The kind kisses that he was giving her had turned into fiercer ones as she nuzzles his cheek with her nose. He murmurs something incoherent to her between the precious kisses before letting his trail down her neck until his chin rests on her shoulder. She threads her fingers through his hair and holds him to her, unable to let him go as she stares at the back of his head with angered and bitter tears in her eyes.

"You should be here," Boudicca tells him, her heart growing heavier with each word. "You should be with me. We should be dead...I should have fought harder but I never. You're all alone here. Without me. Without our son. If I had died instead...I wouldn't have stayed. I don't like being alone. I would have been selfish because that is what I am...that is what I always will be and I _like_ it. I like being selfish. I wish I was dead...I wish it was me...You should be _alive_. You-"

"I didn't stay away, Boudicca," Robb retorts. "I couldn't. I died knowing that I was lucky enough to know _you_...lucky enough to have a child with _you..._ lucky enough to love _you._ You need to wake up. No matter how long it takes, I will be waiting. My heart does not belong to me anymore. It belongs to nothing but _you._ Our child...Our little Ned is proof of that. The greatest gift I have ever gotten was knowing that you loved me too."

Boudicca let out a small laugh that was filled with happiness but that happiness was short lived when she pulls back to kiss him once again when she notices the blood that weeps from him as he leans back, letting out short and pained gasps while he stares at her with fearful eyes. All her happiness she felt turned to dread once more when she takes in his face and the multiple arrows that had somehow lodged themselves into his chest. In her horror, she pulls him up from the bed and holds him to her chest, keeping him in her aching and trembling arms.

"Robb, Robb," She pleads frantically, tears gathered in her eyes as she gives him a desperate shake. "Robb... _Robb_ -"

"Boudicca," Robb croaked, looking up at her with pained blue eyes that were shining with unshed tears. "Are we free yet? Are we home yet?"

Boudicca feels numb and all she could do at that moment was nod, running a hand through his auburn curls as she listens to his child like voice. It felt as if someone had thrust a dagger into her heart and ripped it from her chest as all her breath left her then. All she could do in her helpless state was shake her head, unable to speak but Robb seemed to know somehow as a small smile appeared on his blood stained lips. Robb stared at her but he looked as if he was miles from where she was as his stare became blank. Boudicca props him up, letting the back of his head rest on her shoulder as he grabs her hand but she snatches it away in surprise. _Cold,_ she thought. _He is cold, so cold._ That can't be right, his touch was always warm and welcoming. Not cold and cruel.

"T-That's good..." He trails off, his breathing laboured. "I want us to go home, Boudicca..."

"We will," Boudicca vows, tears sliding down her pale and tired face. "We will go home. I swear. I-I'm sorry...I'm sorry, Robb..."

"W-We were going to have a babe-" Robb gasps, his grip slackening but she shakes her head. "We were going to have lots of babes...We were going to grow old together..."

"We should never have left Riverrun," She curses.

"You stubborn woman," He utters out, letting a small laugh escape his lips as he cups her cheek with his cold hand. "You stubborn, strong, stupid woman."

"Please, Robb-" She begs, his hand dropping from her cheek as she shakes him again like she did the last few times but she knows he will never hold her again. "Robb? Please, Robb! _Robb!"_ Her voice became a wail, echoing against the darkening chambers as the candles at their side flickered out with the strong wind that was picking up. Boudicca makes a high pitched and pained noise as she leans down, letting her head rest against his own as she weeps. " _Robb!_ "

Boudicca lets out a small gasp, clutching her throat as she sits upright in her bed. Her brows furrow when she takes in her tent and a pained sob escaped passed her lips as she held her throat tighter, squeezing it as she takes in the furs of her bedding, the table and chair in the far corner along with the rack that holds her armour and the boots that had been flung to the far side of her small tent.

She releases her neck and trails her hand up to wipe the wetness from her cheeks as she stands up from her bed, limping towards her boots and cloak with an intent. Boudicca throws her cloak around her shoulders as she slides her leather boots on before picking up the bowl of fruit that was on her desk and leaves her tent. She inhales the cold air, letting her eyes flutter close as the gentle wind caresses her face.

Boudicca looks down to the ground, avoiding the gaze of her men as she treks through the mud, clutching the bowl of fruit tighter to her as she makes her way through the camp towards the tent of Theon Greyjoy that was situated near Mors Umber's tent. She stills, staring at it for a moment or so as she listens to the whimpering before entering his darkened tent. She peers into the tent, expecting to find Theon sitting on his bed but instead she finds him huddled in the corner, his knees brought up to his chest as he shakes and trembles, murmuring incoherent things under his breath. Theon stills, his mutterings ceasing and looks to her with wide eyes and a fearful expression.

"You have decided then?" Theon asked. "You've come to kill me."

"No. You are better off alive than dead," Boudicca informs him as she kneels down at his side, placing the bowl of fruit next to him on the ground. "Eat. You will feel better."

Theon stares at the fruit in suspicion before he makes an attempt to take a piece. As he reaches towards the bowl, Boudicca notices that he has at least three fingers missing and his remaining fingers did not possess fingernails. She grimaces at what the likes of Ramsay Snow must have done to him and the countless others that he has tortured, including some of her men. After a long silence, Theon picks up a grape in between his shaking fingers and raises it to his nose, sniffing it before he opens his mouth to bite it.

Boudicca can't help but stare at his mouth that has gaps where some of his teeth once were and the broken teeth that no doubt caused him pain, by the way, he winced when he chews on the green grape. _What did he do to you?_ Boudicca asked, staring at the shell of a man in disgust. He stiffens under her intense gaze before letting his downcast eyes meet her own.

"You have them too..." Theon murmurs. "The night terrors...I have them too...I dream about Robb."

Theon began to mumble under his breath once more as he rocks himself back and forth, causing her to sit back to stare at him in uncertainty. In all her years, she has never seen such a man act this way. Not even when she has led her men into battle has she seen someone act this way. This was true _fear_. The man that he used to be was gone, Boudicca was certain of it. The Theon she had known died at Winterfell the moment he brought his sword down on Ser Rodrick's neck. He was a damned man. _He has paid the iron price,_ she thinks to herself as she reaches out to place a hand on his shoulder except he shrugs her hold off violently.

Boudicca sucks in a sharp breath and tries once more, gentler than she had been and this time threads her fingers through his hair and brings him closer to her. His mumbling quietens but she could hear the sobs rise in his throat. She holds him closer, keeping her fingers locked in his tangled hair that was in dire need of a clean, comb and cut. It felt like she was comforting a child instead of a tortured man.

"We will steal their lives," Boudicca promises. "We will make them _pay_ the iron price, Theon."

"My name," Theon mutters, looking up at her in desperation as she pulls herself from his hold. "He...He kept trying to take my name away...Every time he asked me what my name was...I kept getting it wrong and he would take a finger or a toe...I screamed and _screamed_ but all he did was _laugh._ I haven't heard _my_ name in a long time, Boudicca. Such a long time. H-he kept calling me Reek...W-What's my name? Is it Reek or Theon? I don't know..."

"Theon," She assures him with a firm shake of the shoulders. "Your name is Theon, Theon Greyjoy."

"Theon..." He repeats, his fingers digging into her arms causing her to grimace in pain. "He said I was his _Reek_. He said it rhymed with freak. He-"

"Will die," Boudicca interrupts with a fierceness, keeping her grip firm on his shoulders as she holds his gaze. "He will die along with Roose. Both of them will die. We will burn Dreadfort and we will retake Winterfell. We will take the North. We will kill the bastards. Together. You and I both loved Robb. You, as his brother and I, as his wife. We will avenge him. You are Ironborn. What is dead may never die, but rises again harder and stronger than it once was. You _are_ Theon of the House Greyjoy, son of Balon. You _are_ a Kraken."

"Balon..." Theon whispers, shaking his head. "Balon abandoned me...He isn't my father...My true father lost his head in King's Landing and I betrayed him..."

"I broke a promise to my father. I made a promise to him that I would protect my siblings..." Boudicca laughed but it held no humour. "And I would, except I broke it. I didn't protect them. We both have done horrible things for our blood...for our house. For years I have played the fool just to keep them innocent but I also played the monster...I played the monster to keep them _safe_. We both failed Robb. Sansa, Arya, Bran, Rickon and Ned remain. We will not fail them. You need sleep, Theon...You look like shite. You will be able to think better once you have had rest..."

"I know I have no right to ask this of you..." He begins. "But can I hear it...Can I hear my name again?"

"Theon," Boudicca said with a sigh. "Your name is Theon."

Boudicca rises to her feet, dusting the dirt off her knees as she stands above Theon, staring down at him with a frown as she takes in his huddled form that had somehow become less agitated. The muscle he once had was lost and most of his bones were protruding underneath his sickly pale skin that no longer held colour like it once had at Winterfell. Boudicca grips the fur from the bed and drapes it over his shaking form, watching him with care while he mutters under his breath before letting his tired eyes close as he grips the fur in his shaking hands.

"You don't know him like I do...What if he wins? What if we lose?" Theon asked, his voice hoarse and panicked. "He has taken everything from me..."

"If the bastard thinks he will win this game..." Boudicca trails off. "He hasn't been paying attention."

* * *

 _The Wall_

Jon Snow

Jon followed Ser Owen into the chambers of Stannis Baratheon. The darkened room was cold and hard, like the man that resided within them despite the hearth that was burning bright in the middle of the chambers. At the far end of the chambers stood Stannis Baratheon, standing rigidly at the window that gave little light to the man's chambers but the look on the man's face brought a shiver to him. The man watched his men train in the yard with a hard and stern face. If it weren't for his black hair peppered with silver, he would never have guessed this man was a Baratheon with his dark and emotionless eyes that were nearer black than they were blue. His footsteps echoed against the stone floor causing Stannis to turn and face him, fixating his impassive stare on him.

"Jon Snow," Stannis acknowledged. "You have heard the news then?"

Jon stilled, looking down briefly before meeting the man's gaze once more with a cold stare. The news of his nephew's birth had spread across the Seven Kingdoms and it had angered Stannis. _His claim to the Iron Throne is threatened,_ Jon thinks to himself. His nephew holds a stronger claim to the throne than Stannis does. He looks to Ser Alren standing next to Stannis with a sneer present on his face as he stared at him. Jon lifted his head higher, staring defiantly at the man before letting his eyes drift towards Stannis once more. _Ned Stark,_ he thought with a small fondness. _The Little Wolf._ For a moment, he felt as if he was expected to kneel before Stannis but he did not and he held himself straighter than before.

"I know enough, Your Grace," Jon replied with a coldness. "The raven was sent a moon's worth ago."

"The son of Boudicca Baratheon and Robb Stark," The knight muttered. "As long as the wolf boy _lives-_ "

"You aren't touching him," Jon retorts, his sword hand twitching as he stared at the man. "I hear you are addressed as a _Ser_ now. You once were addressed as a _Lord._ What happened?"

"You little bastard-" Ser Alren hissed.

"Leave us, Ser Alren," Stannis interrupts. "Lord Snow and I have important matters that need to be addressed."

The sneer that was present on the man's face vanished and he held a lock of shock but the stern and cold stare from Stannis made him submit to the command. Ser Alren gave a curt nod and bowed low to Stannis before making his way towards him, the man bumped shoulders with him and muttered a curse under his breath before leaving the chambers, slamming the wooden door shut behind him after the squire left with him. Stannis remained silent, listening to the thundering footsteps before he decided to address Jon, breaking the tense silence. _I could cut it with Longclaw,_ he thought to himself.

"It seems that Lady Sansa Stark is arriving at the Wall," King Stannis said, causing him to stiffen at the mentioning of his little sister. "Lady Melisandre saw her in the flames...Along with _you._ Your name is often brought up when it comes to her visions. _I see him, a white wolf fighting at Winterfell...He joined the Storm Queen_. She tells me that Boudicca is fighting to reclaim the Iron Throne for her son. However, Lord Penrose tells a different story. He claims that she is fighting to take back Winterfell from the Bolton's. Should I be concerned, Lord Commander? You know the North better than Boudicca and me."

"Roose Bolton..." Jon began, the name sour on his tongue as he fought back a growl. "He _killed_ my brother. She seeks justice, Your Grace."

"And in seeking justice-" Stannis replied. "She can threaten any claim I have to the throne. As does her son, Ned Stark."

"Your bannermen...It seems a lot of them are disappearing as of late," Jon retorted. "The Northmen rallied to Boudicca's side."

"Aye," King Stannis murmured, his expression souring at the mentioning of his niece's name. "It is not a sight I wish to see in these pressing times. If I am to reclaim the Iron Throne, I need an _army_. I have little over ten thousand men left thanks to Boudicca. Word of Boudicca's victories has spread to each corner of Westeros. _The Warrior Queen,_ the bards sing. I care not for the songs they sing but I do care for their words. Soon, Dreadfort will lie smouldering in snow and House Bolton will be reduced to ash..."

 _Boudicca Baratheon,_ the winds whispered. _The Warrior Queen._ It felt as he had somehow dreamt it all. Jon stared down at the ground, taking in the dark stone and let out a small breath. He dreamt. Each night he dreamt of driving his sword through Roose Bolton like he had done Robb. The thought of his nephew growing up without a father made his heart ache. He knew the pain all too well. He grew up without a mother like Ned would grow up without a father. His expression darkened considerably when he thought on Roose Bolton. _The Little Wolf,_ he thought of what the new recruits had called his nephew. _And what a wolf he will become._

"It is civil war within the North. Those that side with House Bolton and those that side with Boudicca," Stannis continued. "It seems Sansa Stark has sided with her. Though, where do _your_ loyalties lie?"

"The Night's Watch does not involve itself in the politics of Westeros, Your Grace. We are sworn to-" Jon begins but Stannis interrupts him.

"I know of the oath," Stannis retaliates, a frown making its way onto the man's face as his dark eyes narrow. "I do not need to hear of those words. From what I have heard, you _broke_ an oath to the Night's Watch. The traitor, Roose Bolton thrust a dagger into Robb Stark's heart. Do you not wish to avenge your brother? You can give me the North. I asked Boudicca to commit herself and her army to my cause-" Jon eyed Stannis with care as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded letter. The man stared at the piece of parchment in anger before handing him the letter that was stained with blood. "She refused and this was her response."

 _Stannis,_ _  
_ _You commanded that I bend the knee or die. You want the Iron Throne? Have at it! I do not care for a throne of iron._ _  
_ _The North knows no King but the King in the North, Ned Stark. My son. You may have Westeros, Stannis but you will_ _  
_ _never have the North. I will break before I bend. You wish to kill me? Kill me and be cursed, Kinslayer. The only King_ _  
_ _I will bow to is the King in the North, whose name is Stark. From this day until my last, those that shed blood with me_ _  
_ _shall be my brother. You are neither of those things. You are not my King nor are you, my brother. You want your arse_ _  
_ _kissed? Have that red whore kiss it._ _  
_ _Boudicca, The Storm Queen._

"Find something amusing?" Stannis inquires, causing his smile to fade as he looks up from the letter.

"It's nothing, Your Grace," Jon replies. "She reminds me of someone that's all."

"Who?" The man demands. _Arya,_ Jon thinks to himself. _She reminds me of Arya._

"My sister," Jon answered truthfully. "She reminds me of the Northerners."

"Like father, like daughter," King Stannis scoffed, taking the letter from him to inspect it, his furious gaze fixated on the words. "All the times that I have seen and heard Boudicca speak, I see her lips move but all that came out of her mouth was her father's words. Robert and Boudicca. At times, I could never tell the difference between them. Our father, Steffon was steel as was Robert. Like our mother, Renly was copper. Boudicca and I, we are _iron._ She knows I will break before I bend. As will she. That is the reason we survive. When I take the Iron Throne, the North will need a Warden. You are the Warden I want to rule the North."

"I'm a bastard," Jon says simply. "A Snow. I can't. Besides, I am the Lord Commander now. Even if I wanted to, my duty is to the Night's Watch."

"I am the one true King," Stannis seethes. "The rest were false Kings. Ned Stark is a babe. As is Tommen. Neither are _true_ Baratheon's. Kneel. You will no longer be Jon Snow, Lord Commander of the Night's Watch. You will rise as Jon Stark, Warden of the North and Lord of Winterfell. All those who turned to Boudicca _are_ traitors. When I take my place as the rightful ruler of the Seven Kingdoms...I will need new Lords. I will need new Wardens. You do not have a choice."

* * *

Author's Note: Hey, I hope you like this chapter! I would like to thank everyone for reading this story, for following and making it one of your favourites. I would like to also thank everyone who has left a review, I always enjoy reading them. If you have any questions feel free to ask! And the next update should be up soon! The next chapter will be filled with a lot of surprises (some good and some bad) so prepare yourselves!

Reviews-

ZabuzasGirl: Thanks!

sankhadeep dutta: I can't give anything away just yet but there will be a lot of clues in the next chapter when she holds a meeting with her council. I can say that there will be a pov of Daenerys in the next chapter and the Tyrell's will be making an appearance soon.

celticank: Thank you, it's going to start getting tense once Daenerys arrives in Westeros because Boudicca won't be exactly welcoming of her and her dragons.

RHatch89: Thank you!

Lysa: Thanks! I hope you liked this chapter.

Guest: Thank you!

jean d'arc: Thanks, there will be a lot more of Theon in the coming chapters as he starts to become Theon again but he isn't out the woods yet. I hope you liked the exchange between them in this chapter. Blackfish and Boudicca will be having a scene in the next chapter where he talks about Catelyn.

Arianna Le Fay: Boudicca will be battling the Bolton's a few more times. I can't say who Boudicca will be marrying yet but you will find out in the upcoming chapters.

Sansa: Thank you! I'm really glad you think so. I'm glad you like how I have made the characters, getting a character right in what they say or think takes a lot of time to map out how each pov will start and finish.

blazaboi: It depends on who she makes her promises to.

Guest 2: I hope you like this chapter!


	41. Chapter Forty

_The Wall_

Sansa Stark

 _"Oh raven, dark wings have brought me dark words, what omens do you bring? You've brought death to all with the words that you sing,"_ Sansa sang, the song her mother used to sing to her soothing Ned as he settled in her arms but her gaze remained settled on the wall of ice that loomed over them, encasing them in a cold shadow. The sigil of a stag surrounded with fire was flying overhead, dancing in the soft wind. The sigil of Stannis Baratheon caused er to grip the reins of her horse tighter along with Ned as she turned to face Ser Barristan's who held a grim expression. _"Oh raven, watchful three eyed one, oh what have you seen? What will happen to me? Oh raven, I see death in your eyes..."_

The fog that hid them from sight made her shudder as she stared at the intimidating wall, that was taller than the mountains. Sansa was worried for both herself and her ever growing nephew, Ned. She had not been worried about seeing Jon again, she was worried about meeting Stannis Baratheon and his red witch, Lady Melisandre that she heard Boudicca mention once or twice. Both she and Ser Barristan swore an oath to Boudicca to protect Ned and she has kept her promise since. _I will die if I must,_ Sansa thought with a frown and the hold she had on Ned tightened with her possessive thoughts. _I won't let anyone harm him._

Sansa would be fiercer than her sister's Nymeria and fiercer than that of her mother. She killed for Ned once and she would kill for Ned again. Ned was afraid of monsters, like most children were but she wasn't. She stopped being afraid of them the moment that her father lost his head. All she felt now was anger and sadness and an emptiness were her father, mother and siblings once were. Ned's wails softened as he listened to several horns that sounded above them and the roaring orders of men. Her blue eyes flickered up and she peered through the fog to see the crows above them, lowering the gate for them to enter.

As Sansa entered the yard with Ser Barristan, she stared in apprehension at the men of the Night's Watch. Some of them gifted her strange looks, others held a frown on their faces but she could see dark intent lingering on their features. She could not find her brother, Jon within the flock of crows that had gathered around them. Sansa exchanged a glance with Ser Barristan, noticing the look of concern that adorned his features but she paid it no mind as Ned started crying once more from the cold gust of the wind that made her horse stumble. Sansa hushed him, a breath leaving her lips as she wrapped him inside her own furs and whispers promises that she would feed him soon. She tore her eyes from Ned, looking around until blue met grey. _Jon,_ she thought to herself as tears started to gather in her eyes and her bottom lip trembled fiercely as she stared at him.

"Sansa," Jon breathed, looking close to tears himself as she dismounted from her horse with care. "Sansa..."

"Jon," She said, her breath hitching as she quietened down Ned and began to approach Jon.

He raced for her, hurrying down the steps and within less than two strides, she was in his embrace. Sansa wrapped an arm around his neck, mindful of Ned in her arms as she took in Jon's features. It was strange seeing her brother again. He has changed. _We both have,_ Sansa adds as a smile appeared on her face. All she felt was pure _relief_ when he held her in his arms. Her tense shoulders began to relax, her shaking knees began to still and the ache in her body began to dull. Their bodies were pressed together but as Jon pulled away, a sudden sneeze made him look down with furrowed brows.

With a finger, he lifted up the bundle of furs to reveal the pale face of Ned. His mouth opened in shock, his smile fading but the innocent, almost child like look in his eyes made tears fall from her face as he stared down at Ned in _awe_. Sansa stared at Jon, waiting for him to speak as his mouth opened and closed while he stammered under his breath.

"Robb..." Jon murmured. "He looks like Robb."

"Yes," Sansa replied, her voice small and quiet. "Our nephew."

"He's the babe...He's Boudicca and Robb's babe," He responded, his voice breathless as he tried to form sentences but it seemed he was in shock. "Ned..."

"Ned Stark," She agreed, a small and sad laugh passing her lips. "The Little Wolf."

"You came here," Jon said, addressing Ser Barristan as he let his chin rest on her head as he pulled her into another embrace. "You brought them to me...My sister and nephew...You have my thanks, Ser."

"I did so on Boudicca's behalf," Ser Barristan told him. "I promised to keep her son safe along with her good sister."

"Still..." Jon trailed off, pulling away from her to face Ser Barristan. " _Thank you_."

"Do you...Do you wish to hold him?" Sansa asked, holding Jon's gaze as he gave a light nod.

Sansa pressed a kiss to Ned's cheek, brushing her thumb against his soft face before handing Ned over to Jon. Her dark haired brother held him in his arms, propping him up so that Ned's head was resting on the leather of his arm and all she could do was watch with tears trailing down her face as she witnessed her brother hold back tears. _I've never seen him cry before,_ she notes. Compared to Robb and Theon, Jon was the strongest. Even as a child, she had never seen him shed one tear but now...

Something crimson caught her attention and she turned, seeing a beautiful woman garbed in a blood red dress stroll towards them and at her side was a firm man with an angered glint in his eye. Sansa took in the woman's features and felt uncomfortable as the woman's gaze never lifted from Ned or Jon. The woman had dark red hair, skin pale as the snow on the ground and Sansa could have sworn she saw a hint of red in the woman's eyes. _This must be Lady Melisandre,_ Sansa thought. _The woman that Boudicca and Davos were talking about._

"Your Grace," Sansa said courteously, she knew for her life and her nephew's it would be best to treat the rigid man with respect. "King Stannis."

"Lady Stark," Stannis remarked his voice cold as winter itself. "You've travelled far."

"You brought the child..." Melisandre announced, the small noises that Ned made having caught the woman's attention. "He has King's blood."

Sansa stiffened at Jon's side, watching as the Red Woman trailed over to Jon's side and lay a long fingered hand on his shoulder as she looked at Ned. The woman had a smile on her face but it made Sansa feel uneasy. _The woman's face was smiling,_ Sansa remarked to herself as she stared at the woman's dark eyes. _But her eyes do not._ She had heard about Melisandre from Ser Davos and Boudicca. She knew _exactly_ what the Red Woman did. She _burnt_ people alive. Sansa relaxed when Jon held Ned tighter to his chest, shielding him from the Red Woman.

"Yes," Sansa answered. "This is Robb and Boudicca's son. Ned Stark."

"I take it that his naming was Boudicca's doing?" Stannis questioned, though she gave no answer to it. _You already know it was,_ Sansa thought.

"And the child's faith?" Melisandre inquired, causing her brows to furrow. "What faith will he have?"

"Boudicca does not care for-" Sansa began but Stannis scoffed, interrupting her with a cold stare.

"I know she does not care for faith," Stannis retorted. "It seems she does not care for many things as of late..."

"You shoulder consider it," The Red Woman told her. "To raise him with the faith of R'hllor-"

"My Lady," Jon interrupted. "The Stark's of Winterfell have followed the Old Gods since the First Men. It will not change. I know his father and his grandfather would have wanted him to follow the Old Gods."

"Besides," Sansa snapped. "I doubt Boudicca would want him to follow a religion that burns people at the stake."

"The night is dark and full of terrors, Sansa Stark," The woman mused, a softness to her voice. "I have seen the Storm Queen in the flames as I have seen you, my Lady."

"My Lady," Ser Barristan muttered, his hand resting on his sword. "I think it would be best to get Ned out of the cold. It seems a storm is picking up."

"The Bringer of Storms," Melisandre said, her voice holding amusement. "I saw her this morn'...In the flames...This night, a sharp blade in the night will cut her, cold and cruel."

"What?" Sansa asked, her voice trembling as the woman stared at her. "What do you mean?"

"I'm afraid we must take our leave," Stannis tells them, turning to face Lady Melisandre with a hard stare that she could almost see the threat he had for the Red Woman before his eyes trailed to Ned and Jon. "I have a meeting with my council on retaking Winterfell...Lord Snow, I suggest you chose wisely. I wish to take more of Ned and Boudicca after the meeting has finished until then, Melisandre...Leave them be. Ser Barristan, I will talk about where you stand _soon._ "

 _Choose wisely?_ Sansa thought, her brows furrowing in confusion as she watched King Stannis and Lady Melisandre depart. After Stannis and the Red Woman left, she let a sigh of relief escape her as she turned back to face Jon and Ned, her smile returning as she stared at the sleeping babe in Jon's arms. Jon looked up at her with a barely visible smile, holding onto Ned tight as he turned and began to walk towards one of the many sets of stairs. The ice that covered the stairs made her concerned for both Jon and Ned as he did not have a grip on the railing and she was fearful he would fall but for some reason, each time she found herself staring at his familiar gruff but kind bearded face, she could not help but let her worries fade from her mind.

"Come on," Jon said, a small grimaced smile on his face as he stared at her. "You need to be warm and fed. We can talk more over luncheon."

* * *

Night had since fallen and Sansa was unsure of what to do with the wailing Ned. Ever since leaving Jon's arms, Ned had started to wail and he wouldn't stop. She tried coaxing him to sleep by having milk warmed, by having him rocked by the warmth of the fire and she even sang him lullabies and told him stories but it would not work. Ned wanted Jon. Sansa did not want to wake the exhausted Jon or his direwolf Ghost, so she took a stroll around Castle Black, cradling him in her arms as she reminisced her luncheon with Jon. Sansa wondered if it was the presence of the Red Woman that made him weep or if it was the fact Stannis held him. Sansa trailed down the steps, approaching the large hearth in the yard and stood there, watching the flames dance.

"Please, Ned," Sansa begged, her voice desperate. "Don't cry."

"The boy is strong," A voice said, causing her to stiffen and her skin began to crawl when the woman approached her. "He deserves to be heard."

"He is strong," Sansa retorted, unable to look at the woman as Ned began to wail louder. "He gets fussy at night. For a babe, he hates sleep."

"He can sense the terrors in the night," Melisandre retorts. "The boy does not understand how _loved_ he is, does he? I used to stare at children and wonder...Perhaps the babes know how much power they possess over those that love them. The lengths mothers would go to protect their children. I can never understand a mother's love...I was made a slave at a young age and therefore never knew it...But I wish I could experience it. Those that threaten the Little Wolf tend to die, do they not? His mother continues to wage war all for the sake of her son...All for the sake of _you_. As I said, children hold the most power. I know what Boudicca is capable of...She would crush mountains...tame seas...burn _cities_ just to keep you safe. I have seen your life endangered...she managed to kill the fire made flesh..."

Sansa said nothing, listening absentmindedly to the woman as she stared at the fire. Melisandre was staring into the fire as well, the fire reflected in the woman's mysterious eyes as they glazed over. If she were a wolf like Ghost or her Lady, she knew her hackles would have been raised as she stared at the Red Woman from the corner of her eye as Ned began to quieten down and squirmed in her hold, kicking back the furs from around him as he let out a small yawn, his nose wrinkling up as he did so before the auburn haired babe settled in her arms.

"I have been wanting to meet the babe," Melisandre tells her. "He has King's blood. As does Boudicca and the Princess Shireen. Their blood holds powerful magic. Ned's even more so. Your nephew comes from great lines...The power King's blood gives me when I offer it to the flames..."

"I don't care," Sansa interrupts. "You are _not_ touching him. I don't care what the flames say. It's fire and fire-"

"Is _power_ ," The Red Woman muses. "You must believe me, Lady Stark. I do not mean Ned harm."

"You've hurt people before," She whispers, her voice holding a fierceness. "You have burnt people at the stake..."

"Sansa," A hoarse voice calls, causing them both to turn and face Jon, his hand resting on Longclaw. "What are you doing out here? Are you well?"

"I'm alright," She answered, giving him a weak and tired smile. "It was Ned..."

"How about I put him back to sleep?" Jon offered, taking a step forward, eyeing the Red Woman with suspicion. "You deserve a rest."

Sansa passed the sniffling Ned over to Jon and she almost smiled when Ned raised his head, nuzzling into Jon in search of his heat as her brother bundled him up in his fur cloak. She could see the hint of a smile on his face as he looked down at their nephew. Jon stilled, glancing up at Melisandre with a stern stare before looking over to her. In this light, she could have sworn that she saw a hint of _purple_ in Jon's dark eyes. He gave a firm nod, looking at her with a wariness before walking back up the steps to his chambers leaving her along with the horrible woman.

"I think the Storm Queen will take to him," Melisandre smirks. "Lord Snow is rather handsome, is he not? A rather brooding man but handsome nonetheless. Did Boudicca _love_ Robb?"

"Don't question their love," Sansa said, her face burning with the anger that took over her. "Robb and Boudicca loved each other. Her name was the last to leave his lips before his death."

"Boudicca and Ned pose a threat to Stannis's claim to the Iron Throne," The Red Lady informs her. "You also pose a threat to him if Lord Snow does take what is rightfully his."

"I am Sansa Stark of Winterfell," She mutters, her gaze unflinching as she stares at Melisandre. "Boudicca is my good sister and _Jon_ is my brother. Ned is _my_ nephew. He is a wolf of Winterfell like I am. This is the North. My home. You can't frighten or threaten me here. Nor can Stannis. Or the Bolton's. Or even the Lannister's. If you try to hurt Ned...It won't be Boudicca or Jon or even Ser Barristan that will end your life. It will be me. If you ever come near me or Ned again.."

"You'll what, my Lady?" Melisandre demanded curiously, cocking her head to the side.

"If you do," Sansa breathed, her voice almost growling as she glares at the crimson woman. "I will kill you."

* * *

 _Moat Cailin_

Boudicca Baratheon

Boudicca held the mug of ale, listening absentmindedly to her men drinking merrily and singing songs in her name as she walked passed them, making her way towards Blackfish's tent. She sucked in a sharp breath, taking a long swig of the ale before entering his tent, staring at the large man sitting in the shadows. The man stiffened but when their eyes met, he relaxed when she approached him. Her gaze landed on the sword that he was cleaning and seen a pearl necklace with a silver trout pendant wrapped around it causing her to frown. _That was_ -

"Catelyn's," The man told her with a long sigh. "It was Cat's."

"I want to give my thanks," Boudicca murmured, placing the ale on his desk. "It's ale. I thought you would prefer it over wine."

"You don't need to thank me," Blackfish grunted, taking a sip of the ale, licking his lips as he stared off into the distance with a hard look on his face but behind his clenched jaw, unkempt beard and tired eyes she could see the pain he shared with her. "I did this for _Catelyn_ and _Robb_. And Ned. Before Robb's passing...He made me swear that if he somehow died that I would protect _you_ and your child. You didn't need much protecting but I still offered it."

"You miss them," Boudicca muttered. "It feels as if it has been _years_ but it has only been moons since their deaths. We have been fighting for a long time, haven't we?"

"Aye," Blackfish replied with a small grumble, looking up at her with tired but amused eyes. "We've been fighting for fucking ages but it is worth it. It is worth living and dying for. You and I...We are more alike than people know...We don't fall inlove as often as most but when we do...We would burn the world just to keep them safe...Cat and Robb...I _loved_ them along with little Bran and Rickon. No matter what it takes, we will find them. The wolves will come again. As will the stags. Your kind doesn't come along often but when you do...It is true, Baratheon's are all the same. You Baratheon's are hard to kill. You like dancing with death, don't you? I'm glad that Robb married you, Boudicca. That foolish boy loved you...I saw it...We all did. He was inlove."

"I loved him," Boudicca said, her hand reaching up to touch the pendant. "I won't love another as long as I still breathe."

"I knew it!" Lord Brynden smirked. "I called it from the day I met you. There are songs...About the Warrior Queen and her Wolf King..."

"My son should be with _me_ ," She whispered. "He should be with us. Me and Robb. He should be here-"

"He isn't," Blackfish retorted, his brows furrowing as he took another sip of his ale, licking his wet lips as he let out a long and shaky sigh. "Catelyn isn't here and Robb isn't here. We can't change that. The dead can do no more for us. We need to be strong. For _them_. For Sansa and Arya. For Bran and Rickon. For Ned. The surviving Stark's. We will crush House Bolton and retake Winterfell from that bastard then we will bury Robb where he rightfully belongs."

"Robb belongs in the God's Wood," Boudicca said hoarsely, a lump forming in her throat. "He doesn't belong in the darkness of those crypts. He belongs in the woods. It was his favourite place."

"I know it hurts...I share the same pain, lass..." Lord Brynden informs her. "It will stop hurting. You need to keep fighting-"

"What if I am tired of fighting? I'm so _damned_ tired," Boudicca breathed, slouching against the desk as she let out a shuddering breath. "I've fought since my birth."

"I'm tired too, lass..." He agreed, his eyes solemn as he stared at her. "We'll kill the bastards...All of them..."

"I enjoyed killing the Frey's," She admitted, looking down at her boots. "Yet I felt nothing...It's hard to feel when most of the time I don't feel _anything_. Just pain."

"You need to let Robb go," Blackfish sighed, causing her to stiffen.

" _What_?" Boudicca hissed, her eyes narrowing as she glared down at him. "I-I can't just let him _go_ like he was nothing!"

"You have to. As hard is it, you _must_ let him. From what I have learned, no amount of revenge can bring them back," Blackfish told her, rising from his chair. "We are bringing justice and freedom to our lands. If it was vengeance, we would have ended the lives of Walder and Roose and that would be that. But, we are fighting for much more than that. You and I both know what we are fighting for. I know Robb and he would want you to remarry...To find some happiness in this hell we call Westeros...You _must_. You are our Queen and it is _your_ duty to do so. I have to move on from Cat and while I do so, you will move on from Robb."

"I can't..." She spat, clenching her eyes shut. "It hurts _too_ much."

"Your happiness is that little boy who probably misses his mother," Blackfish snaps. "You need to strike that alliance or we will die. All of us. Including _your_ son."

Blackfish gave a firm look, shoving passed her as he left his tent, leaving her alone in the darkness. Once he left, she was alone to her thoughts. _Dead is dead_ , she recalled the words of her uncle Jaime. As much as she hated him, her uncle Jaime was right on some things. _Love no one but your children,_ her mother's words crooned to her. Boudicca promised to love Robb until her last breath and she would but she needed to let go like Blackfish said.

She wouldn't end up like her father. A drunkard that neglected his children most of the time for wine and whores as he mourned for his lost love. Her son was pure and he would not grow up with hatred in his heart like she did. No, he would not grow up like she did. _I'm sorry,_ she thought to herself as she took the pendant from around her neck and snapped it off, glancing down at the wolf pendant with sorrow.

"Goodbye Robb," Boudicca muttered, letting the necklace slip like silk from her fingers.

Without looking to the ground, she left Blackfish's tent and noticed the celebrations had come to an end and with a relieved glance, she started to make her way back to her own tent. The sound of water splashing near her caused her to still and she turned, taking notice of the shrewd Lord Penrose and let out an irritated sigh, giving him a glare as he advanced towards her, no doubt wanting to talk to her about possible betrothals. The man approached her, a small smile on his face as her brow arched at the man.

"You should retire, Lord Penrose?" Boudicca sighed. "Unless it is of dire importance, it can wait until morning."

"It can't," Lord Penrose told her and she stilled, hearing an edge in his voice that was not present before in the man. His hand reached out and he gripped her wrist, his grip grew tighter when she tried to pull away from him that she was sure that he could crush her wrist with his armoured and leather glove. She swore at him, trying to pry his hand away but he was relentless and when a sneer crossed his face, Boudicca froze. "Do not struggle."

"Let go!" Boudicca seethed causing the man to laugh. "You fuck! That hurts!"

Boudicca looked down when something in his hands glinted from the light of the moon and before she could think, he plunged a dagger into her. Boudicca felt the blade slip in and then out but for some reason, she felt no pain. Not at first. At first, there was only shock, fury filling her that she was too surprised to even cry out, only managing a silent scream as she grasped at the man's purple tunic as he held the bloodied dagger to her face before plunging the dagger into her once more.

"For what it is worth," Lord Penrose began, sheathing his dagger back to his belt. "Your death will give us freedom. King Stannis assures me."

Boudicca fell to her knees, looking up towards the man with hatred in her eyes, letting out short gasps as she clutched her bleeding belly before collapsing. The ageing man smirked down at her, his smirk illuminated by the moon in the dark sky. The man bowed mockingly towards her but before he could take another step, an arrow landed in his throat which made her let out a small shout as the man collapsed on top of her, gurgling as he choked on his own blood. Boudicca remained silent, closing her eyes from the pain as she tried to shove the man off with what little strength she held but suddenly the weight of the dying man was lifted causing her to open her eyes and when she did, they widened.

"B-Boudicca!" Theon panicked, kneeling by her side as he frantically began to press his hand into her bleeding side.

"T-Theon..." Boudicca wheezed, looking up at the Kraken before her head lolled to the side and she was dragged into the darkness.

* * *

Author's Note: Hi, I hope you like this chapter! I hope you liked a dark sort of side to Sansa in this chapter. I would like to thank everyone for reading this story, for making it one of your favourites and for following it. I would like to also thank everyone who has left a review, I enjoy getting them. And if you have any questions, feel free to ask! The next update will be up soon!

Reviews-

RHatch89: Don't worry, Stannis isn't stupid at all and he has a lot of plans ahead.

ImpSlapFury: I can definitely say that the Bolton deaths that happened on Game of Thrones will seem merciful because they won't die straight away.

ZabuzasGirl: Thank you!

Guest: Thank you, I'm glad you liked that scene!

sassygirl9811: I can say that Melisandre will try to do something, I've dropped a few hints here and there in this chapter to show her intentions.

Guest 2: I will be sticking to most of the original story line with a few parts changed here and there. I'm glad you liked the Theon parts and there will be a point of view from Tommen soon and King's Landing will make an appearance in the next chapter.

Guest 3: When it comes to claims there is a lot of tricky parts involved in Order of Succession. There is a lot of types of primogeniture, there is male primogeniture which would support Stannis's claim to the throne as male primogeniture means the throne would be passed on to the male heir while absolute primogeniture would support Boudicca's claim as that primogeniture would mean the throne would be passed onto her, it doesn't matter about her gender.

jean d'arc: I'm glad Theon is back too, he is on the mend and in chapters to come it will prove he is becoming Theon again with Boudicca's help.

Guest 4: Thanks!

Jordy Stark: Thank you, it means a lot to me that you like this story!

Lily: Thank you, I'm glad you like Boudicca and I hope you like this chapter!

celticank: Tommen is currently with Lord Baelish going back to King's Landing, there will be pov with Tommen in the next chapter!

12345678910: I don't really know why it might be a malfunction with the sight because it is still up.

Wednesday: Thanks! I'm glad you are a fan of this story (and all my other stories) It means a lot to me that you think so!


	42. Chapter Forty One

_King's Landing_

Tommen Baratheon

"It will be alright, Tommen," Lord Baelish said. "You are safe now."

Tommen paid no mind to the man's false words, his brows furrowing as he stared down at his brown leather boots. He did not want to come back to King's Landing. It wasn't his home anymore. His home was with his sister. Yet, he still somehow found himself walking through the horrible streets of King's Landing, escorted by Lord Petyr Baelish and the King's Guard that had greeted them at Blackwater Bay. Tommen had not spoken a word and refused to since leaving the Vale.

The images of his guards, Boudicca's men, getting their throats slit still gave him night terrors and the poor blind dog that he had grown to love was kicked down the flight of stone stairs while it tried to protect him. It reminded him of his cat, Icca and what his brother had done to her. He can still remember Joffrey's malicious stare and smug grin. Despite Lord Baelish's reassurances, he still wanted his sister and he cried himself to sleep each night as he waited for her to rescue him.

He longed to be in his soft bed at Riverrun back when everything was gentle and good, with his sisters by his side and Orion curled up at the end of his bed, warming his cold toes. He wanted Boudicca. He wanted Boudicca to kneel next to his bedside, kissing both him and Myrcella goodnight after she had told them stories and sang them songs until they were asleep but he knew he would never feel such comfort again.

The world was not a gentle, good or giving place. Tommen knew that now. If it was a good place, his dark haired sister wouldn't be fighting a war and his blonde haired sister wouldn't be dead. He often asked Boudicca why it had to be Myrcella and her response couldn't be truer. _Myrcella was a little girl,_ Boudicca had told him. _And everywhere in the world little girls get hurt._

After Tommen trailed through the iron gates with the guards at his side, he felt as if he would be sick once again like he had the last few times on his journey back to the capital. His legs began to shake as Tommen tried to settle back on the still land instead of the rocking boat he was on. Looking at the place he once called home brought a shiver down his spine. It did not feel right standing in King's Landing. The world around him was too bright and the air he breathed was too humid for him that he felt faint as he began to sweat under the heavy furs he was wearing. Tommen looked up to the blue skies above him and winced, averting his eyes. Even the sun wasn't the same, making him long more for the snow and the only sibling that remained to him.

 _You are a lion, Tommen,_ that is what Boudicca's parting words were. _You mustn't be afraid._ But he was and he couldn't keep his promise to her, he was _frightened_ and wished even more that he was a dark stag instead of a golden lion. He wanted to have his sister's raven hair and to have antlers instead of mane. Tommen wanted to be brave but each time he tried to, it only made him sob harder than before. _You are the brother of the Warrior Queen,_ Sansa told him. _You must be strong._

As he entered the Red Keep, his knees began to buck at the thought of seeing his mother. Tommen did not want to see his mother ever again. _Boudicca and Sansa were right,_ Tommen thought to himself as he quivered when he took in the familiar surroundings of his childhood home. _Monsters do wear human faces._ His greatest fear was coming face to face with the truth. The truth about his father. About his uncle Jaime. Lord Baelish had informed him that his grandfather, Tywin would be awaiting him along with his mother and that alone petrified him. Lord Baelish told him that since his brother's death, the Iron Throne had passed to him and he was to be crowned King. _Uncle Tyrion wouldn't kill Joffrey,_ Tommen thought. _Uncle Tyrion is kind._

A King's Guard came to help him up the steps, placing a hand on his shoulder but he shrugged himself out of the man's grip and gave him a hard stare. _Be strong,_ he told himself with a firmness. _Be strong like Boudicca._ Tommen stiffened at the sound of footsteps and lifted his head, catching sight of his mother appearing at the top of the steps with a growing smile on her worn face. Next to his blonde haired mother was... _him._ His brows furrowed, taking in Jaime's missing sword arm. His grandfather was present there as well, impassive and staring down at him with a cold and unflinching glare. _I'm not telling you anything,_ Tommen thought defiantly and returned the stare. _I won't ever let you hurt my sister._

It was painful to look at his tired mother as she lifted up her Lannister crimson and gold red skirts, hurrying down the steps towards him. When his mother reached his side, she wrapped her arms around him but he stood still and stared ahead at the nearest wall, unable to return her embrace as his eyes began to water once more when he inhaled the familiar scent of his mother. His mother had always smelt strongly of wine and not that long ago it brought him comfort but now it felt as if he was breathing in the stench of a rotting corpse. He inhaled, his breath hitching as he heard his mother stifle a small sob. _Fake_ , Tommen thought. _It's all fake._

"You are home now, Tommen," Cersei murmured, pulling back to caress his tear stained cheek with the back of her hand which caused him to shudder. "You have grown so much."

"I hate you," Tommen said, sniffing as tears trailed down his red cheeks. She reached out to touch him but he backed away, shaking his head fiercely. "You're the reason Myrcella is _dead_. You're the reason that Boudicca changed. You're the reason that I have night terrors each night. You ruined _everything_. Sansa was right...You are a _monster_. I hate you...I will hate you forever for what you did. I know the truth, mother...I know everything and I hate you... _I hate you_!"

"Stop crying," His grandfather ordered, his angered gaze meeting his hurt one. "Your brother is dead, Tommen. The crown has passed to you and you _will_ do your duty."

"We will discuss this at another time," His mother snapped, her voice cold as she turned to face his grandfather who gifted her a sharp look. "I just got my son back."

"Your brother was not a good King, Tommen. He was not wise nor strong," His grandfather continued, meeting him halfway down the steps and stared down at him with cold and cruel eyes, uncaring for the tears that he was shedding. "He had made far more enemies than he did allies. Had he made peace rather than war...Your brother might have lived. A crown did not give him power, he had forgotten that but _you_ will not. You must rule."

"He was _my_ son," Cersei said harshly. "As is Tommen. They are _my_ sons."

"I do not care for the fact that Tommen is your son. It makes no difference to whether or not he has the makings of a good king," Tywin retaliated, his voice fierce and firm. "We still need to deal with House Baratheon before we truly won this war. Stannis and Boudicca still pose a threat to the Iron Throne. However, I doubt that the peace between them will last long considering that Stannis wants the throne and Boudicca along with her son, Ned stand in the way. Should Stannis die, Boudicca will follow after. We cannot allow her to live. She is too far gone to be saved. I will have her head for what she has done to our house."

"Or maybe she'll give me yours," Tommen retorted, glancing at Tywin with an uncaring expression as he became rigid.

Despite his grandfather and mother calling on him, it fell on deaf ears as he brushed passed them, trailing up the steps with the King's Guard close at his side. Each time he cast his mother or grandfather a glance, knowing that they were the ones behind Myrcella's death made his skin crawl. He didn't want to see them. Not now. Not ever. When he had first fled King's Landing with his sisters, all he could think about was returning back to King's Landing to be with his mother but now it was different.

His home was where his sister and nephew were. Now, he was with _them_. With his grandfather, who waged war on his sister and House Stark, who had a hand in the Red Wedding. With his mother, who he hated and with his uncle Jaime, if he could call him that. _He isn't my uncle,_ Tommen thought bitterly. _He's my father._ And how he wished Jaime wasn't. How he wished he didn't share the same blond locks or green eyes as _them._

As he travelled to his old chambers, he had stopped crying and a small smile appeared on his face. _Boudicca will come for me,_ Tommen thought. _I know she will. She promised._ The moment he reached his older chambers, the hand he had placed on the golden handle of the door stilled and he stared down at the ground. The guards had now settled behind him causing him to open the door and with reluctance, he walked inside and closed the door behind him, not wanting to deal with the King's Guard.

The chambers he walked into were not his. This room was warm and colourful, filled with flowers that made the room smell sweet. A pleasant noise filled his ears and he walked further into the room, discovering a green bird singing in a golden cage. His brows furrowed, a look of concerning making its way onto his face as he hurried over towards the caged bird, wiping his wet face with his sleeve.

"You're trapped too?" Tommen asked softly, reaching through the bars of the cage to stroke the bird as it preened at him. "Don't worry. I'll find the key...It has to be here somewhere. I'll set you free."

"The bird is a gift," A voice said behind him as he retracted his hand from the cage. "I have much more gifts for you."

"Go away," He croaked, unable to look at his mother as she approached him. "I don't want them."

"What horrors have you seen?" His mother demanded, caressing his face while she placed another hand on his shoulder. "It is alright, Tommen. You're safe now. You're safe, my son."

"I was _safe_ ," Tommen whispers, taking a deep breath as he turned to face his mother, who stared at him with a shocked but nevertheless angered expression. "In the Vale...I was _happy_. The happiest I had been since...since Myrcella and you _ruined_ it. I was safe. Why would you think I wasn't safe? What lies have you told to get me back? I was safe from Joffrey. I was safe from the war. I was safe from death. I was same from _you_. After the war was over, Boudicca was going to come and get me. She was coming to get Ned, Sansa and I. We were going to be a _family_...But you ruined that."

"I told no lies," His mother told him, her voice wavering as she did so. "It was the truth. You weren't safe. Nowhere in Westeros is safe, Tommen. You would have been hurt and killed."

"They never hurt us!" He shouted, shoving her away. "King Robb was kind to me and Myrcella. He never hurt us. It was you! You hurt us!"

"You, Myrcella and Boudicca were his prisoners," Cersei informed him. "You were a hostage, Tommen. You will _always_ be a pawn."

"Robb _loved_ Boudicca!" He screamed, tears gathering in his eyes. "Robb loved her. He loved both Boudicca and Ned. Boudicca loved them too."

"You know nothing, Tommen. You are a mere child," Cersei snapped. "You will not speak to me in such a manner, my son. I am your mother. Do not test me. You, Boudicca and I. We _are_ family. We share blood. I am your mother and you will do what I say. You will not follow your grandfather's orders but _mine._ When you a crowned King, you will pardon Boudicca and will summon her to King's Landing. Once she has arrived in King's Landing, you will place her under house arrest and disinherit her from all her rights to the North, Stormlands and Riverlands. I want her safe and you will keep her safe. Do you _understand_ what I am commanding?"

"You're not my mother," Tommen whimpered, grimacing as she reached out to touch him. "Don't touch me. You once told me there is no such thing as monsters...But there is. It's you. _You_ are the _monster_."

Cersei looked at him with an unrecognisable expression, at first he thought it was anger or sadness but when he pried deep enough, it turned out to be neither of those things. His mother straightened up, clasping her hands together as she turned on her heels and walked out of his chambers, closing the door behind her. There was a strange calmness to her as if nothing had happened at all. Tommen was left alone with nothing but the soft singing of the bird and his sister's comforting words ringing in his ears. He looked down at the small pin on his tunic, grasping tightly in his sweaty hand as he started to sob.

 _You are my brother, Tommen Baratheon,_ Boudicca murmured. _You must look fear in the eye and tell it to go fuck itself. Only then can you be brave._

* * *

Tommen let himself drift off to sleep, letting his head sink into the feather pillows and let the kittens curl up next to him for warmth while their mouser mother hunted. Yet, the creaking of the door opening was enough to rouse him once again as it slowly opened, allowing the fire from the torches outside of his chambers to light his room with an eerie orange glow that brought a shiver down his spine.

 _Do ghosts exist?_ Tommen wondered, clutching his furs to his chest.

He lifted his head, his heart thundering in his chest and roaring in his ears as he watched the shadows dance as a dark figure approached his bedside. The kittens mewled, squirming at his side as they sensed the presence that was nearing. At first, Tommen thought that it might have been his mother but when he smelled roses instead of wine, his brows furrowed in confusion as he desperately tried to search for the flint to light his candle on his nightstand. A sudden light from a candle revealed the beautiful woman he met in the Water Gardens earlier.

"Don't worry," The kind voice said. "It's just me, sweet Prince."

As he managed to light the candle on his nightstand, Lady Margaery Tyrell emerged from the shadows. Tommen was thankful for the darkness as his face warmed when he looked at her beautiful smiling face, watching as her cheeks dimpled. Although she was older than him, she was the most beautiful woman he had ever met, far more so than his mother and she was also one of the kindest. When he arrived in the capital, she and her grandmother had greeted him with nothing but courtesies and true kindness. His breath hitched when she sat on the bed, leaning closer to him that he felt her sweet breath fanning his face.

"Lady Margaery?" Tommen questioned, his brows furrowing. _How did she get passed the guards?_ "It's late."

"Indeed it is," She chuckled, her breath warm and hushed. "Sweet Prince."

Her touch was gentle as she let her hand rest on his head, brushing strands of golden hair away from his sight. The sound of claws tapping against the stone floor brought his attention to the mother cat and he watched in both fascination and delight as she jumped onto the bed and curled up on Lady Margaery's lap, her tail curling around the woman's arm. A small smile appeared on his face as her soft laughter, resembling tinkling bells began to caress his ears. The brown haired woman let her hand rest on the cat's raven fur and he watched with fondness as she stroked the cat behind the ears.

"Cats are such adorable creatures," Lady Margaery cooed. "She is a sweet one, isn't she?"

"Yes. She just had kittens with Ser Pounce," He trailed off, trying to rid himself of his dry mouth. "This is B-Boudicca...She is the castle's mouser...The kittens are called Myrcella, Ned, Sansa, Robin and Davos."

"Boudicca?" She mused, her lips twitching at the mentioning of his sister's name. "Do you miss your sister, Tommen? I have three older brothers; Willas, Garlan and Loras...I am the youngest as are you. I know that when I am away from my siblings...That I miss them dearly with all my beating heart. I am lucky to have Loras at my side along with my grandmother, Olenna and my father. Do not despair, sweet Prince...I am sure that you will see your sister again soon if the Gods are just."

"Yes," Tommen breathed, tears gathering in his eyes when he thought of his sister. "I miss her a lot. I wish she was here. She would have made everything better."

"I have heard many stories about Boudicca," Margaery informed him. "I met your sister once. She is very brave."

"She is," He agreed. "The bravest in all of Westeros. Boudicca had to protect me...Now that I am to become King...It is my turn to protect her, to protect my sister and my nephew. I'm her brother...I'm supposed to."

"I am so sorry for what has happened," The Maid Margaery sighed, her smile fading but she reached over and caressed his cheek, brushing a single tear from his face. Her hand trailed down his arm until her hand clasped his, her thin fingers entwining themselves with his own shaking ones. "I was horrified when I found out what had happened. There is such _evil_ in the world, isn't there? Do not worry, Tommen. You are safe now. We are to be married. I am to be your wife, sweet boy. I will keep you safe, I promise. You will be a King and I will be a Queen. _Your_ Queen."

"I don't want to be King," Tommen admitted weakly. "My sister is the true King."

"Women cannot be Kings," Margaery retorted, her bell-like laughter making his face redden. "Women are Queens, sweet Tommen."

"You are very beautiful, Lady Margaery," He confessed shyly. "You have been very kind to me, far kinder than most people have been. Thank you."

"You should be sleeping," She said, giving the black cat a gentle guidance onto the bed as she rose to leave. "I should not be here but I thought a wife should get to know her husband better before marriage."

"Wait!" Tommen gasped, his face reddening even more at his quick response to her. "I-I...I like talking to you."

"Thank you," Margaery murmured, her smile growing as she stared at him with warm eyes. "Should I visit again, Tommen? Would you like that?"

"Y-Yes," He stuttered, his eyes widening when her red lips pressed a soft kiss to his brow. "Yes, I would like it very much if you were to visit me again."

" _Of course_ ," Margaery whispered, her voice soft as the wind. "We can talk more about our siblings in the morn, can't we? My grandmother wishes to break fast with us."

"I'd love to," Tommen replied, biting his tongue as he watched her leave. "Sleep well, Lady Margaery."

* * *

 _Moat Cailin_

Alysanne Mormont

"It's been days!" Blackfish roared, "That bastard could've killed her...That night, I thought he did if it weren't for that Kraken being so quick with an arrow...I should've stayed with her. I should've known that Lord Penrose would do this. I told her to take on someone as her Queen's Guard but she didn't listen. _I can protect myself,_ she said! Now look. I want all the traitorous bastards hunted down and I want them tried and questioned. The whole plan for our siege on Dreadfort has gone up in flames..."

"No, it hasn't," Alysane pointed out. "Our Queen still lives. Her son still breathes air, doesn't he?"

"Aye..." Grunted Blackfish, returning her scowl. "But for how long? He's at the Wall with Sansa and the last time I checked, _Stannis_ was at the Wall. Along with that madwoman, that burns people."

"Aye," Alysane agreed, folding her arms across her chest as she turned her gaze towards the raven haired Queen. Alysane chose to ignore the glare that was given to her by the blue eyed man as she stared at the wounded Queen, watching the dark lashes that framed the woman's eyes flutter ever so slightly while the Queen's breath started to even out. "Stannis is at the Wall but Jon Snow is also at the Wall along with Ser Barristan. Sansa's bastard brother is Lord Commander at the Wall. He commands the Wall, not Stannis."

"You don't understand!" Blackfish snapped, his brows furrowing further. "I have to ride after Ser Davos! And chases those traitorous bastards that fled. I ride for North. The Maester has informed me that Boudicca should wake sometime this week and if she does, the first thing she will do is ride _North._ She will ride North for the Wall, for Sansa and Ned. If she reaches the Wall, she will be executed. I can't allow for that to happen. Catelyn and Robb did not die for _this_. She isn't safe here and she isn't safe anywhere."

"That woman is a stubborn mare," She chuckled. "I'm starting to think she can't be killed."

" _Stay here_ ," Lord Brynden ordered, causing her to roll her eyes. "Look after her until I return. Keep her fever down."

A small smirk appeared on her face as she kept his scowl, watching as his face wrinkled in irritation. A few moments of tense silence passed between them before he stormed passed her, giving her a final hard stare as he left her alone in the tent with Queen Boudicca. She listened to him shout orders to the guards and remained standing at the entrance of the tent, listening as it fell quiet. Alysane unfolded her arms, approaching Queen Boudicca's bedside with a quirked brow as she stared at the woman.

"You're awake," Alysane stated. "You can stop pretending."

The answer to that was Boudicca rising from her bed with a loud moan, she watched in both surprise and amazement as the frantic woman limped around the tent, rummaging through drawers. _Priorities,_ Alysane thought with a loose chuckle as she watched her Queen grasp a bottle of wine along with several pieces of parchment. The woman bites down on the cork and rips it out of the bottle as she trudges towards her desk, throwing herself into the chair.

"You're mad," She tells her. "You heard Blackfish. What if he hasn't left-"

" _Who are you?_ " Boudicca interrupted, her exhausted and hurt eyes focusing on her. "You look familiar..."

"Alysane Mormont, Your Grace," She introduces herself, giving her a small nod. "Queen's Guard."

"You need not worry about the likes of _Blackfish,_ " Boudicca drawls, taking a swig of wine. "He won't do anything."

"To you," Alysane retorts with a smirk, prying the bottle of wine out of Boudicca's hand and takes a large gulp. "He'd wring my neck if something were to happen to _you_. I was given orders."

"I don't need a Queen's Guard," Queen Boudicca states, sneering at the prospect. "I'm not some meek thing that needs protecting."

"That's what I said, my Queen," She agrees, taking in the woman's full figure. "You look like shite."

"Thank you," Boudicca mutters, snatching the bottle of wine from her to take another drink. "You look like a beast but I'm not complaining, am I?."

Boudicca stared at her for a moment or so, before she looked away. For a moment or so, Alysane wanted to give them woman a punch to the face but stopped herself. She wanted to hate Boudicca Baratheon. To hate the woman for marrying Robb Stark, causing him to break his oath to House Frey. Had he not broken his oath, she wouldn't have lost her mother and sister but the world was not that kind. It was not kind to her nor was it kind to Boudicca. _I lost a sister,_ Alysane thought. _As did she. We both lost our sisters._ No matter how much she tried to, she could not bring herself to hate this woman. The woman smiled for a moment or so but the smile did meet the woman's green eyes.

"I should be entitled to hate you..." Alysane told her. "I lost my mother and sister."

"You won't be the first to hate me," Boudicca replied, turning to face her. "And you won't be the last."

"We both lost our sisters," She continued, watching as Queen Boudicca stiffened. "No matter how much I try to _despise_ and _loathe_ the very air you breathe...I can't."

"Such cruelty, such hatred...How did I let it consume to do these horrifying things? I didn't seek it out nor did I embrace it...So what happened to me? When did I become a _monster_?" Boudicca spat, tears gathering in the woman's eyes. "When did I lose my way? They say a darkness will consume Westeros...Am I that darkness? Does the darkness have _my_ name? If my sister could see now and the awful things that I have done...She would recoil in horror. The last person who didn't think of me as some monster...Would think that. I know she would. How did I manage to gain such a kind sister? Such an innocent and kind and gentle sister? How is it that she is _gone_ while I still fucking _live_?"

" _Boudicca-_ "

"Until I realised...That _only_ the monsters live," Boudicca laughed bitterly, shaking her head as she slouched against the desk. "I was surrounded by monsters so a monster I became."

"You aren't a monster," Alysane scoffed. "Far from it."

"What am I then?" Boudicca demanded. "Go on. Tell me. _What am I?_ "

"You aren't a monster and I've met a fair few. You are far from a monster," Alysane replied, uncaring for the fact that the Queen grimaced. "You are a rebellion. A liberator. A Queen. A _hero._ To some, you aren't but to the small folk? You are a hero to them. And there haven't been very few heroes as of late. You put the small folk above all. Most of those fancy Lords and Ladies from the South wouldn't do that. You don't fight for glory or for gold. You fight for freedom."

At first, Boudicca was frowning until her features softened a considerable amount causing her to smile at the Queen. It spurned something in her when she looked at Boudicca Baratheon, who was once loud and proud now reduced to such a bitter thing. Alysane watched as the woman dipped a black feather quill in the ink and began to write, the only noise shared between them was the scratching of the quill. She shuddered, a cold chill running up her spine as a cold wind picked up. _When the winds rage on,_ Alysane recited the words of the small folk. _The Storm Queen will wage war._

"The Stark's didn't deserve such cruelness in their lives," Boudicca murmured, a tear rolling down her cheek that made Alysane tempted to reach over and brush it away with her thumb. "Robb was meant to be Lord of Winterfell, he was meant to grow old and grey with children and grandchildren and perhaps even great grandchildren surrounding him. I had high hopes but those hopes were dashed. I dreamt of growing old with Robb, having more children and ruling the North _together_. I dreamt of us passing away peacefully...He didn't deserve such a butcher nor did Myrcella."

"I was told about your plans," Alysane sighed. "You will break a promise but what is better...Breaking _one_ promise or breaking thousands? If you don't break your promise to Robb, you will be breaking the thousands if not millions of promises you made to each and every being that is fighting in _your_ name. You promised them a better future, a new dawn and a free life. You can't continue to love a name. Robb is gone therefore you must marry _him_. You don't have to love the man to marry him. I've heard stories...He is an honourable man."

"If he is honourable as the stories say," She retaliated, dipping her quill into the ink once again. "He won't break his oath."

"He might," Alysane offered. "If he wants to keep them safe."

Alysane watched as Queen Boudicca began to shake, the shout had passed her lips before she had a chance to catch the green eyed Queen. The woman slipped from the chair and fell to the ground, her head lolling to the side as she went unconscious. Alysane shouted once more and dropped to her knees with a loud thud, hoisting the woman up in her arms before she was met with a wetness. Alysane brought her hand to the woman's belly and retracted her hand. _Blood,_ Alysane thought as she pulled the woman further into her arms and held her, hoping that the Maester would come when she heard commands and orders surrounding the tent.

"You idiot girl," Alysane whispered harshly, looking ahead to the entrance of the tent as the purple eyed squire ran to fetch the Maester. "You stupid girl."

* * *

 _Meereen_

Daenerys Targaryen

"Tell me more about the North and their false Queen," Daenerys mused, her lips quirking into a small smile as she walked down the steps of Meereen, listening to the chant of _Mhysa_ as she passed her liberated people. She accepted a large red flower that was given to her by a child that barely reached her waist before she turned to face Ser Jorah, who had a look of confliction on his face. "If I wish to strike an alliance with the Northern Lords, how should I go about it?"

"When we have reached Westeros, we will need an alliance with the North, Khaleesi. I was from Bear Island but all the Northerners are the same," Ser Jorah told her, clasping his hands behind his back as he looked down at her with pained eyes that made her heart ache for him. "All the North holds honour and loyalty above all. Back where I am from, they do not care for such titles, Khaleesi. All the titles that you were graced with will matter little to them once you reach Westeros."

"I have _dragons_. If this Queen of theirs does not cooperate and bend the knee, I will burn the North," Daenerys said. "The same fate will befall the North as it did Slaver's Bay. Tell me more about the Demon of the Trident's daughter, Boudicca Baratheon. I heard they call her _Queen_. Why should the Northern houses rally behind a _Baratheon_? I thought it was the Stark's that held the North? How is it that a Baratheon managed to secure the North before I?"

"The Northerners chose freedom and that freedom is Boudicca Baratheon," Jorah replied, staring straight ahead with furrowed brows. "The woman has lived an awful life, Khaleesi. You are two sides of the same coin. The North holds a lot of pride as did Boudicca but that pride was taken from her and the Northern houses. I do not know much of what happened at the Red Wedding but I do know that my aunt, Maege lost her life because of House Bolton and Frey's betrayal. Yet, no one lost more than Boudicca did that night. Her pride. Her hope. Her husband. Her sister. Her babe. She lost everything."

"How old was her sister?" Daenerys asked, her brows furrowing slightly as she thought on the horror.

"Nine," Ser Jorah answered, causing her to stiffen.

" _Nine..._ " She breathed, looking to the Narrow Sea with a longing stare, thinking about her cousin, Rhaenys. "What happened to the girl?"

"I cannot say for certain, Khaleesi," Jorah admitted with a sigh. "But I do know that she was _butchered._ "

 _Butchered_ , Daenerys thought as she shivered at his choice of wording, watching as the man's eyes glazed over and she noticed deep regret in his eyes. It made her sad to see him like this but her thoughts went back to this Boudicca Baratheon. The woman was a kindred spirit and in another lifetime, perhaps she and the Baratheon woman may have been friends. _When the North wind blows,_ she thinks of the song that the bards had sung to her of the Warrior Queen. _The Storm Queen will wage war._ Some reports painted the woman as a strong and fierce leader and fighter of freedom while other reports condemned her, claiming she is a butcher and drank the blood of innocent people. _I know what she wants,_ Daenerys thought. _If she is like me, she and I both know what we want._

"Boudicca Baratheon wants the North to remain free, doesn't she?" Daenerys questioned. "That is why she fights for it. Our fathers were evil men. Her father and mine. Our fathers left the world worse off than it was found. When I return to Westeros, I will not do that. I will strike a bargain with this so called Warrior Queen and will see what her words are worth. We will leave the world better than we found it. If she swears to support my claim as the Queen of Westeros, I will give her the North and that will be that. If she does not, I will burn her and her lands."

Ser Jorah opened his mouth to speak but stilled when a man garbed in the strangest of clothing approached, the man looked at her with raised brows before he bowed to her. He reached into his black robes and pulled out a piece of parchment. It was Jorah that stopped the man from taking a second step towards her. Jorah stared at the man for a moment or so before taking the piece of parchment from his grip and handed it to her. Her purple eyes remained on the man as she thanked Ser Jorah but as she turned to see the sigil, Ser Jorah stopped her.

"Khaleesi-" Ser Jorah began. "The seal...It's the sigil of House Baratheon."

"If it is from Boudicca Baratheon, I wish to read," She said, her hands shaking from what the letter might contain. _Will she wage war on me? Does she want me dead like her father once did?_ "I want to see it. You are from the North, I take it?"

"Aye," The man replied. Daenerys gave a small nod, carefully breaking the hard wax and slowly unfolded the letter, taking in the red ink but she gasped in surprise as hundreds of small wax seals were attached to the letter. _The direwolf of Stark,_ Daenerys thought as she takes in the various seals. _A roaring giant. A lizard._ There were a lot of seals but none were more beautiful than the intricate writing. "From House Reed. After we met Queen Boudicca at Moat Cailin, the Northern Lords asked me to send this to you. The letter is sealed and it is only to be seen by _your_ eyes."

 _Daenerys Stormborn of the House Targaryen,_

 _For as long as one Northern still breathes air, never will we be brought under Targaryen rule. Why should we bow to a dragon, when we can run with wolves?_ _  
_ _It is not for victory, for vengeance nor riches that we fight for but rather, we fight for our freedom. We fight for a free North. For this alone, we will never bow_ _  
_ _to dragons as no man with a shred of honour would give up his freedom. I have been brought up to despise Targaryen's but I do not hate you, how can I hate_ _  
_ _a girl I do not know?_

 _I will fight for your claim but only on this condition. I want the North. I want the North freed. I want its people and its lands free. We have_ _  
_ _have fought far too long and lost too many lives for a Dragon Queen to take it from us. Do not see this as a threat but see this as an opportunity to make our_ _  
_ _world a better place for our children and our children's children. I hope you live a long and prosperous life, Daenerys. I hope that we shall never meet as if we did_ _  
_ _it would mean either you or I were to die._

 _Boudicca of the House Baratheon._

Daenerys looked down at the letter, her mouth opening and closing as she tried to form words. In all her years, she could not believe that a Baratheon would dare speak on a Targaryen's behalf. Her brother claimed that all Baratheon's were evil but this woman. She should be angered that this woman dared to stop her from having the Seven Kingdoms, from having the North but when she took in the words once more, she knew deep down that she would not take the North from them. _I would be no better than the masters,_ Daenerys thinks to herself.

"Khaleesi?" Ser Jorah asked.

"She means to back the claim I have," Daenerys informs him as she hands him the letter. "If I let the North remain free."

"Is that not a good thing?" He questioned. "You are one step closer to your birthright."

"Tell me," She begins, turning to face the messenger. "What is Boudicca Baratheon like?"

"I don't know much about her. I have only seen her in person once or twice," The man from House Reed replies. "She is a fierce ruler and-"

"You seem confident in her," Ser Jorah interrupts.

"I am," The man confesses. "I don't believe in many things but I believe in her."

* * *

Author's Note: Hi, I hope you liked this chapter! I would like to thank everyone for reading this story, for making it one of your favourites, for following this story and I would also like to give massive thanks to everyone that has left a review, your reviews mean a lot to me. If you have any questions, feel free to ask and the next update should be up soon.

Reviews-

ZabuzasGirl: Thank you, hopefully you like this chapter and Tommen's pov! Jon Snow's point of view will be featured in the next chapter and Stannis will be in it, so look out for that!

RHatch89: Thanks!

mlmary57: Boudicca isn't dead just yet but it will take time for her to recover.

celticank: Thank you, Jon's pov will be in the next chapter and a lot of things will go down.

Guest: Thanks!

Guest 2: The next update for the Dragon Born should be up soon and I'm glad you like this story.

Arianna Le Fey: A lot of things will be going down at the Wall in the next chapter, without giving much away, let's just say it will be involving the Red Woman and Ned.

birdy: Thank you, I hope you like this chapter!

beserkerbeast: Thanks, hopefully you like this chapter!

SamMayDay89: Thank you, I'm glad you think so and hopefully you like this chapter and the chapters to come!

whitedwarf: Thank you, it means a lot to me that you think so. I have a set idea for what Boudicca looks like and she is a few inches off of being the same height as Brienne. I'd say she does have strong feminine features and is quite buxom figure with the muscle adding. It is her height and large frame that tends to throw most characters off. Jon's pov will be featured in the next chapter and you can expect to see things about Boudicca in the next chapter with Jon's pov. I'm glad you like the parts with Jon and the scenes at the Wall. I hope you like this chapter!


	43. Chapter Forty Two

_The Wall_

Jon Snow

With a stern and watchful stare, Jon casts his gaze down to the newer brothers of the Night's Watch as the latest recruits were practising their swordplay in the snow ridden yard. Most of them had arrived a moon's worth ago but most of them were still _boys._ Some of them were ages with Sansa and much to his horror, some were even ages with Bran. All of them had arrived at the Wall; starved, shivering and sleep deprived with little to no experience of battle despite living in a war-torn world. None of them knew how to wooden sword much less live steel. For the _true_ war against the dead that was coming, the thought that these boys were going to be the ones to defend and guard the realm of men brought him sleepless nights. It all made sense to him when he found out that most of them had come from Wintertown and Dreadfort. _The Bolton's,_ Jon thought while he tried to suppress a snarl.

Although he now could no longer deny the fact that the undead was marching for the Wall, Jon was still unsure of what to tell Sansa. How could he tell his own sister that the Long Night was coming? That winter was coming and the dead were coming with it? After dealing with his conflicted thoughts, Jon had decided that morn, he would tell Sansa after she has had her sup and laid Ned to rest. _The wights do not care for children,_ Jon thought in dread as he shouted a command down to the boys as they practised their combat. _All they do is take and take until there is nothing left but winter and death._ His father was right, winter _was_ coming and he did not know what could be done to stop it once it reaches the Wall. Though, Jon was not concerned for his own life. He was worried for Sansa's. For Ned's. For Boudicca's. For Arya's, wherever she may be. He also worried for the innocent folk of Westeros and the fierce Free

Since Stannis's arrival at the Wall, the tension between his Night's Watch brothers and the Baratheon King's soldiers was beginning to grow. With supplies growing scarce and attacks from some of the Wildlings on the Wall becoming more frequent, he found himself settling more conflicts as time passed and it was starting to take its toll on him.

For a sweet moment, he became distracted from his worried thoughts and a small bout of hoarse laughter escaped his throat when he watched Ser Endrew disarm the oldest of the new recruits, Satin and watched as the irritated youth fell to the ground with a harsh thud. The man's dark haired locks covered and stuck to his exhausted face but he could see the annoyance adorning his face. The sound of light footsteps silenced his laughter and he turned to face the approaching figure. At first, he turned expecting to see Sansa rocking Ned in her arms but instead he was met with the woman garbed in crimson, who stared at him with a blank expression.

The woman brought a shiver down his spine as she grew closer, her blood coloured eyes studied his features. Behind her eerie impassive stare, there was _curiosity._ Although she was beautiful, his men claimed Melisandre was red, terrible and _red_. After Ned's arrival at the Wall, the Red Woman had taken a strange interest in his red haired nephew. The sudden interest she had brought him great discomfort. _Nothing good can come of that,_ Jon thought as his hand trailed down to rest on Longclaw. _Nothing good at all._ Jon had heard the stories of what Lady Melisandre was capable of and that made the unsettling feelings he felt strengthen. It was at this point, he thanked the Gods for Ser Barristan as Jon knew that the white haired man would and was able to protect Ned and Sansa when he could not.

"Lady Melisandre," Jon said with a small nod.

"Lord Crow," The woman greets, returning his gentle nod. "Your presence is needed with King Stannis."

 _Selyse may wear the crown but Lady Melisandre is Stannis's true Queen,_ Jon remarked to himself as he gave her another distinct nod and followed her to Stannis's chambers. The last few meetings he has had with King did not end well as of late. King Stannis has been seething with rage because of Queen Boudicca. Despite the fierce and cold Northern wind, the red haired woman wore no furs to protect herself from the cold but she showed no sign of being in pain or discomfort. As both of them walked up the steps towards Stannis's chambers, he peered at her beautiful but blank face.

"What does King Stannis want of me?" Jon asked, his brows furrowing as the woman's lips quirked into a soft smile.

"Your blood is powerful, Jon Snow," The woman mused, speaking in riddles once again. "You can give him all or nothing."

The answer to his question unsettled him even more and if Ghost were at his side instead of with Sansa, he was certain his direwolf would be growling, warning him of the dangers to come. He noticed through the small window next to the door of Stannis's chambers, that the Stag King's chambers were in darkness causing him to stiffen. The Red woman opened the dark door, the door creaking from the soft touch of her hand and as she stepped in, Jon hesitated for a moment or so before following after her. At the far corner of the chambers, stood Stannis. The man was stoic and his jaw clenched for seething in silent fury.

"Your Grace," Melisandre addressed. "I have brought Jon Snow."

The gaunt man turned to face him and in the tense silence, the King studied him. From his face to his stance. The look given to him from Stannis made him feel on edge as he gave a curt nod to the man and approached him, wondering what the man wanted with him. Each chance he was given to have the name _Stark,_ he declined it. Though with his sister and his nephew depending on him, Jon was beginning to wonder if he _truly_ had a choice. _Did I ever have a choice to start with?_ Jon thought as he gave Melisandre another glance. _Or did they have this planned out from the beginning?_

"Snow," Stannis nodded, clasping his hands behind his back while he inspected a map of Westeros. "I have matters that need to be dealt with. In particular, these matters involve _you_. When the Night's Watch was in dire need of help. In dire need of soldiers to ward of the Wildlings. You asked for it to the false Kings of Westeros and asked it of me. I was the one that answered the call. However, I no longer care about the false Kings. It is the _Queen_ I am fighting against-"

"Boudicca," Jon interrupted. "You asked me once to bend the knee and I would rise as Jon Stark, Lord of Winterfell...I didn't accept it because I would have to lead a war against Boudicca. Robb's wife and Ned's mother. I can't do that to Ned...I can't do that to Robb. I fight for one side. The side that fights for the living, Your Grace. From her short time at Winterfell, I did not know Boudicca that well but I do know that she loves _fiercely._ If she does not fight for freedom and the small folk, who will? Will it be you, Your Grace?"

"As long as Boudicca still hails herself the Queen of the North, Riverlands and Stormlands...she cannot live. She will not live to see out the rest of this war," Stannis murmurs. "The founder of House Baratheon...he claimed it was too dangerous to have a world roaming with stags and that the Gods would somehow be rid of us. A lone stag...a lone stag is said to have the strength to build armies, to found cities and kingdoms with nothing but pure willpower...look at what Boudicca and I have accomplished _alone._ But stags united...that is a different story, Jon Snow. Together, Boudicca and I would have done more wrong than we would do right. If Boudicca lives, I will still have a war to fight. Tell me, Lord Snow...what sounds better...the life of one or the lives of millions?"

"Her life is important to _me_ ," Comes his quiet response. "She matters. Ned lost his father...I will make sure he won't lose his mother. He won't live the life I lived not knowing his mother..."

In truth, Jon did not have the answer. Stannis was the one to answer the call and helped ward off the Wildlings. But that was before he saw their reasoning, living on the other side of the Wall did not make them monsters. The _true_ monsters were hunting them down. The true monsters were adding the Wildlings to their ever growing army of wights. Jon couldn't offer Stannis his help. If he did, he would be breaking his vow that the Night's Watch would never intervene in Westerosi wars and Sansa would _never_ forgive him. Nor would Robb and Ned. His frown remained as he kept his unflinching stare on the narrowed eyed Stannis and smirking Melisandre.

"With the North in civil war...the Stormlands and Riverlands under Boudicca's control...and the rest of Westeros under the Iron Throne's. I need to find a place in which I can settle and gather men to prepare for another war," Stannis informed him, a sharpness to his tone that made him tense. "I am now at the Wall and if I end the civil war in the North...I can have at it. You are Lord Stark's son. His last son and Sansa is his last daughter. You can help me gain the North. The Northerners will raise their banners to me once the Lords find out that the children of Lord Stark have sided with me."

"With all due respect, Your Grace...I am in no position to do that and I doubt Sansa would want to either," Jon retorts. "I am a man of the Night's Watch. I have been for a long time. I will have nothing to do with the conflict between the Seven Kingdoms. I might be his last son but I am his _bastard_ son...the Lords won't listen to me. I do not know how to gain the North's loyalty...not like Boudicca has. The Lords don't follow her because of a name or because of a title...the Lords follow her for _who_ she is and what she has done for them."

"Your brother, Robb was proclaimed _King in the North_ by his own bannermen. And in turn, Boudicca was hailed their Queen. Boudicca has lived in King's Landing all her life, she _knows_ how Westeros works. She knows how the people work and that makes her dangerous. All she needs to do is tell the people _what_ they _want_ to hear. She keeps gaining armies. She keeps gaining titles and lands. She has moved her pieces on the chess board and she has made the right moves," The man said, his voice calm and low but just as dangerous. "Now that Westeros is under _Lannister_ rule and the North is fighting against Bolton rule, the Northerners would forget both the traitorous Bolton's and the usurper Boudicca if the North knew that the wolves of House Stark live on. The Northerners would accept me as King _if_ the Lord of Winterfell recognises me as the one _true_ King."

"My name is _Snow_...not _Stark_...I am Snow and a Snow I will stay," Jon declared solemnly. "I wanted the Bolton's dead but I made an oath to the Watch and to the Wall...I cannot break that oath. Talk with Boudicca instead of fighting her. There is a war to come...much bigger than this, Your Grace. Before I joined the Night's Watch, I would have given anything to have the name _Stark._ I would have worn it prouder than all of them but I didn't...I remained a Snow. If I was to be named a Stark at the expense of Boudicca and Ned...I would disgrace the name...I would be disgracing my father and brother. I will _not_ take Ned's birthright for it is not mine to take."

"Ned Stark is a babe. He cannot run Winterfell or the North. He will not be capable. That is if Ned survives. I will let both Boudicca and Ned live...if you kneel before me," Stannis told him, casting a glance to him over his shoulder as he continued to stare down at the maps. "You will kneel before me as Jon _Snow_ but when you rise, you will rise as Lord Jon _Stark,_ Lord of Winterfell and Warder of the North. You might not have the power to do so but _I_ do."

"I have seen great things, Lord Snow..." Melisandre breathes. " _Many_ great things. You have so much power."

"I swore to hold no lands or titles when I became a man of the Night's Watch," Jon informed them. "I will not be hailed a deserter to the Night's Watch. I am of more use alive than dead."

"Think about it, Lord Snow. You fight for my cause, I will pardon Boudicca of her crimes and she and her son can live a life in peace. I can give both of them lands and titles. Instead of fighting a losing war, she can live a life of peace...I have lost my mother, my father and my brothers...why would I wish to lose my niece?" Stannis muttered. "When I die, she and Shireen will be the last of House Baratheon. She and Shireen must continue on the Baratheon bloodline but it cannot happen if Boudicca is dead. Help me gain the North and I will make sure that the next Lord Commander of the Night's Watch pardons you. You will leave the Wall...with no fear of being persecuted. You can leave with Sansa and Ned Stark as Jon Stark..."

"No harm will come to Boudicca?" Jon demanded. "And what of the Wildlings?"

"No harm will come to Boudicca," Stannis repeats. "As for the Wildlings...that will be for the next Lord Commander to decide."

"Give me time to consider, Your Grace," He trailed off, looking down to the stone floor with conflicted thoughts.

"Time," King Stannis said. "I do not have time...I have a war to win. I want your decision by sundown. You may leave, Snow."

Jon nodded, casting a glance to Melisandre before he left Stannis's chambers. As he trailed down the steps, his heart felt heavier than before. It brought dread to him that he was considering Stannis's offer. _When the dead come hunting in the night,_ the voice of Lord Commander Mormont pierced through his thoughts. _Do you really think it matters who sits on the Iron Throne?_ No.

The war against the dead was far more important than the game of thrones that was being played. If the White Walkers managed to get passed the Wall, it would not matter who sat on the throne...the White Walkers did not care for who sat on the throne. From the King to the small folk...all of them would die. To Jon, a King who would not protect his own people did not deserve the Iron Throne and King who would not listen about the wights, was just as foolish. Winter was coming and there was nothing that could be said or done to stop it. _If I am to die,_ Jon thought. _I will die giving those fuckers a fight._ Little flakes of snow fell, decorating his path in white as he journeyed down the steps.

"Lord Snow," A hoarse voice sounded causing him to stiffen. "I think it would be wise to accept his offer. I can see great things."

"I don't want visions, my Lady," Jon informed her stiffly, turning to face Melisandre. "How can I accept his offer, when I do not have a choice?"

"You do have a choice," The woman retorts, clasping her hands together through her long red sleeves as she meets him on the last step. "You have made it. You made it a long time ago. The moment he mentioned, the Warrior Queen's name. You had made it. You both share the same darkness...though I suppose it does have an appeal. Tell me, why would you accept a decision based on a woman that has never held a conversation with you?"

"She is Robb's wife...Ned's mother," Jon stated, taken slightly aback by her question. "I know Lady Stark had her named Sansa's guardian until she came of age. She is family."

"I have seen Boudicca in the flames. She is quite fierce, is she not?" Melisandre asked him. "You are rather attracted to fierce women, aren't you? It is the fire that attracts. When she arrived at Winterfell, was there not an attraction? She was fierce and strong...fine qualities for a woman that a Northmen would wed. Had you been a Stark instead of a Snow, that could have been your life? You could have had her as a wife and Ned as a son. You were so close...fingertips out of reach. You wanted what Robb had. Robb is dead now. The dead do not need flesh but the living does. Tell me, have you _ever_ wondered what her lips felt like? Or how she would feel when you slide your cock-"

" _Enough_ ," Jon snarled. "She was married to _my_ brother! I would never _betray_ Robb. Boudicca and Robb _loved_ each other."

"You are a man of honour," Melisandre hummed. "But men of honour do not last long in this world we live in. Sometimes it is better to do dishonourable things to protect those we love. Like, Ned. You do know that Stannis will kill that babe. He will have the pup snatched out of Sansa's arms and the girl will be made watch as his soldiers slaughter the babe. Nowhere in the world is safe for children. Not even here, Jon Snow. I admire that honour but I do not admire that stubbornness. You must have been attracted to her at some point? Haven't you?"

"I still love Ygritte..." He trails off, his brows furrowing as he tries to avoid her stare. "I will always love her."

"As I said, the dead do not need love," Lady Melisandre tells him as she rests a hand on his cheek, brushing her thumb underneath his eye. "Only the living."

"If Stannis comes anywhere _near_ Ned or Sansa," He whispers harshly, gripping onto her wrist tightly as he pries her hand away from his face and leans closer to her. "I'll kill him."

"Is that a threat, Lord Snow?" The Red woman inquires, arching a brow to him as a soft smirk appears on her face. "Threatening the one true King...there it is, the flicker of _madness_...the flames held truth then."

"No," Jon replies simply, releasing her wrist as he turns to walk away. "It's a promise."

As Jon made his short but tiring walk to Sansa's chambers, the sound of piercing wails met his ears. His lips twitched into a small smile as he entered the chambers to see Sansa rocking Ned in her arms as she made a distressed attempt to hush his cries. Ghost was lounging next to the fire, gnawing on a large bone as he tilted his head to the side while his curious crimson stare was fixated on the red-faced and tearful babe. Unclasping his cloak, Jon threw it over a chair and approached his sister, who was humming various songs to their nephew.

"His gums ache," His sister informed him, answering his silent question. "It's teething pains."

"Where's Ser Barristan?" Jon asked. "I need to speak with him."

"He is with Maester Aemon," Sansa tells him. "He needed to speak with him..."

"At least Ned won't be depending on milk for much longer," Jon concludes, directing his attention back to Ned. "The mare's milk is starting to run out."

"We should start him on soft foods," Sansa trails off. His sister held a look on her face that made him frown. It was a look on her that he had never seen before. It was as if she was miles from the Wall and miles from both him and Ned. She stared at the dancing flames of the fire before looking to him, her tearful gaze settling on him which made his brows furrowing even further than before. "If mother was here she would know what to do. Or if Boudicca was here. She should be _here._ We should be with her. I don't know where to start or what to feed him, Jon...what if it's too soon and the food makes him sick? I don't know how I could cope if he gets sick...what should we start with? Should we start with mashed up fruits and vegetables? Or porridge? Do you remember when we were little...when we were sick...Old Nan would make us soup. Do you remember?

"Sansa-" Jon began but she shook her head, interrupting him.

"Do you remember?" Sansa pressed, giving him a frantic look.

"I liked it when she put the carrots in," Jon offered, giving her a weak smile. "Even though it tasted the same without carrots...I could have sworn that carrots made it tasted better. 'Course, I remember Sansa, how could I forget? The memories of Winterfell were all I had when I arrived at the Wall. The meals at the Wall couldn't hold a candle to Old Nan's."

"We need to go back, Jon. We need to go _home,_ " His auburn haired sister begged causing him to stiffen. "Winterfell is _our_ home, Jon. Ned and I can't...we can't remain at the Wall. Not with Stannis and Melisandre here. The looks she gives Ned...the looks _terrify_ me. She wants him, Jon. And she will get him. When she does, she will hurt him. I know she will. I don't know how and I don't know why but I do know that she will hurt Ned. We need to go and help Boudicca reclaim our home."

"What should I do tell the Bolton's to pack up and leave?" Jon inquired, giving her a stern look. "We don't have the men."

"What Stannis offered..." Sansa begins, causing his heart to stop momentarily. "Take it. Accept his offer."

"How did you find out?" Jon questioned.

"Samwell," His sister said with a small shrug. "He told me."

"I won't serve Stannis," Jon argues. "I can't."

"Winterfell is our home!" Sansa states, her voice growing louder as she places Ned down on her bed. The pitch of her voice catches him off guard for a moment or so, reminding him that she no longer the little girl that went to King's Landing while he went to the Wall. She had _changed._ "Ned and I will never be safe. Not here. Winterfell belongs to House Stark. It's ours and Arya's and Ned's. It belongs to our family. It doesn't belong to House Bolton...We need to get Winterfell back. We need to take back what is ours. If we don't take back the North, we will _never_ be safe. If you don't help us, I will ride for Moat Cailin to help Boudicca reclaim what belongs to us."

"I'm not a Stark," Jon sighs, giving her a solemn look.

"You are to me," His sister breathes, tears gather in her eyes but she refuses to let them fall. "Our father...our brother wouldn't want this. I want Robb to be laid to rest...at long last. You once asked me what Boudicca's intentions were...that is what it was. That is what we both want. We both want Robb to be beside our father. We want to live in peace. We want our freedom. We want Winterfell. We want to go home. I have to go home now, Jon. I'm sorry."

A rough knock on the door causes him to stiffen as he turns to face it, Jon grips Longclaw with a vice-like grip as the door creaks open but lets out a relieved sigh when he notices Dolorous Edd step into Sansa's chambers. Jon raises his brows towards his dark haired friend as he folds his arms across his chest, nodding to Sansa before he looks to him and holds out a crumpled letter towards him. His face held a worried expression causing the unwavering dread to strengthen in the pit of his stomach.

"A letter for you, Lord Commander," Edd tells him as Jon breaks the wax seal and unrolls the parchment. Jon exchanges a look of concern with Sansa as he takes in the delicate writing. "Arrived just now. Looking at the sigil, I suppose it's from Ramsay Bolton...best to avoid that Stannis...he got a letter too."

"Your false King will die soon, bastard. Word has got about that House Stark kneels to Stannis. You are wrong. You kneel to House Bolton. To _me_ ," Jon reads allowed, trying to rid himself of the lump in his throat as he takes in the horrific words. "The Baratheon whore rides for Winterfell as we speak. I will break both her and the traitorous scum that she calls her _brothers_ in arms. You hide the little red Stark from me...I want my bride. Give her to me. You have three days, bastard. If you do not...then I will _make_ Boudicca wear the skins of her soldiers to keep her warm in the kennels where she belongs as I let my hounds fuck her. The bitch. I want your loyalty. I want your sister...and I want precious Ned Stark. Send them to me, bastard and I will not cause trouble. Keep them from me, I will come to the Wall and fuck your sister in front of you while feasting on the flesh of dear little Ned. Decisions, decisions...what will you chose, bastard? Ramsay Bolton, Lord of Winterfell."

* * *

Author's Note: Hey, hope you guys like this chapter! This chapter mainly focuses on Jon Snow but I hope you liked it anyway. For all my stories, the updates will be a bit slow because I recently broke my left arm (my dominant arm/hand) so it will take a bit longer for me to update because its harder to type with one hand but luckily I can still use my right arm/hand and I hope this chapter was worth the wait. If you have any questions feel free to ask and I will happily answer them. I'd like to thank everyone for reading this story, for following and making this story one of your favourites and massive thanks to everyone that has reviewed!

Reviews-

ZabuzasGirl: I can't tell you yet but I hope you liked this chapter!

PorcelainPuppetLady: All I can about that is...perhaps.

: Thanks, I hope you liked this chapter!

iluvaqt: Yep, she will be staying clear of the Wall for now but while she is recovering a lot of major things will happen (especially at the Wall with Jon, Sansa and Ned)

celticank: I can say that Margaery is playing a game with Tommen and Tommen is falling for it. Melisandre has rather cruel intentions for Ned but all will be revealed in the next chapter.

Mr guy: I would say that I've changed a lot of things as the story developed.

Guest: Thank you!

RHatch89: Thanks!

Guest 2: Thank you, I hope you liked this update!


	44. Chapter Forty Three

_Dreadfort_

Edric Dayne

The winter wind brushed locks of blond hair into his face as he spurred his horse forward. Into the distance, Edric could see Dreadfort looming over a small band of horsemen. The banner of Bolton was raised high in the air, but the wind was so gentle that the banner did nothing but flutter. To him, the silence and the lack of movement made the atmosphere all the more tense and chilling. Seeing the enemies of Boudicca - the man that ended Robb Stark's life and the men that betrayed his Queen, brought a chill down his spine.

Edric had seen what Queen Boudicca was like in combat; the woman that brought an end to Late Lord Walder and his blood. The woman that waged on House Whitehill and then ripped the man's throat out. The woman that brought an end to Lord Spicer's life with a stroke of a knife. The woman that took Moat Cailin. Being her squire, Edric had seen and heard it all.

But this promised to be far more dangerous than the battles he has seen Boudicca fight in. The cold wind had arrived with the message; _Roose Bolton is Warden of the North. He rides for Winterfell. He is requesting to see Boudicca._ When he heard the roars of protest that long winter's night, Edric knew there would be a battle soon.

This would be a battle of the ages.

In the distance, Edric could make out the forms of Bolton soldiers. There was hundreds of them, their weapons and armour glinting underneath the dull morning sun. The sight made him tremble in both excitement and fear. If Beric was here, Edric could almost hear the man scolding him. _That is not how you should feel, lad,_ Beric would chide him. _A good Lord and warrior should never be the first to draw his blade._ Though, Edric was glad that it wasn't just him and Boudicca.

Behind them, rode the Lords and Ladies of the houses aligned to her.

Beside him rode Queen Boudicca Baratheon herself - with an impassive face and her figure adorned in black armour. At her side, was Blackfish. The man had arrived just last night, storming back into the encampment on his brown mare with a thunderous look on his face. _He couldn't find Lord Davos,_ Edric thought to himself and looked at the rigid man. _The Onion Knight is heading for the Wall._ Yet, none of this seemed to phase the Warrior Queen. Her mind and piercing stare were both lingering on Dreadfort and House Bolton.

Despite facing the man who killed her husband, Edric thought Boudicca was holding herself well. Pulling up on her mount, her black horse of death came to a stop in front of House Bolton. In the morning light, Edric could see the group of ten to twelve men seated opposite of Queen Boudicca's own. _Lord Roose Bolton,_ Edric thought to himself and his mouth fell agape at the sight of the man. In the front of the men, was a narrow framed figure clad in black armour and bronze chain-mail. A flesh-coloured cloak was thrown around his shoulders, dancing in the wind behind him.

Swallowing, it wouldn't surprise Edric if it _was_ made from the _flesh_ of flayed victims.

All the hairs had risen on the back of his neck, knowing that the Bringer of Storms would have to face Roose Bolton.

As he grew closer to Boudicca, the more he could make of the man's face through the morning mist. Roose Bolton's face was gaunt and pale as the clouds above them, his black hair contrasted with his white complexion. The thin lips on his horrid face were set into a frown, showing little to no emotion. _His eyes,_ Edric thought and tried to shrug off a shiver underneath his fur cloak. The ice-coloured eyes he held were lacking life that he and most men and women had.

 _Where is Ramsay?_ Edward thought to himself, peering at the row of stoic men. _I thought he would be here._

"Boudicca," Roose Bolton greeted, his voice little more than a whisper. But somehow, the wind still carried his impassive to them.

"Roose," Replied Boudicca Baratheon, her tone formal but behind it, Edric could hear a _fury._

" _Lord Bolton,_ " Roose retaliated, an arched brow directed to her. "I thought _you_ , of all people, would know how important titles are."

"Then I think I deserve proper titling, don't I?" Boudicca drawled, grasping tighter to the reins of her horse. "...However, when that dagger was thrust into Robb's heart...I learned something. In Westeros, titles don't mean _shite._ You live or die. There is _no_ in-between. I used to think titles meant _powers._ I learned that...power, power is an _illusion_. Having power can't protect the ones we hold dear to us. The ones we love. But what I find can protect the ones that remain to me is the lives of those that seek to harm them."

"Pitiful," Lord Bolton said. "But then I suppose I should expect no more from a foreign woman. You belong to the South, Boudicca Baratheon. The North belongs to Bolton. Not Stark or Baratheon."

"This from the cunt who betrayed and killed his King?" Blackfish snarled.

"You are wrong. _Winterfell_ belonged to House Stark. The _northern_ lands belong to those who reside in them," Queen Boudicca responded, tilting her head to the side as an almost feral grin appeared on her face. "The North belongs to the small folk. You hold no claim to the North, Roose of Dreadfort. You betrayed Robb. The man I loved. I promised something that night...I promised to take _your_ lands, _your_ castle, _your_ family and _your_ life. And I never break promises."

"To see the look of despair on your face brought me _joy_ when I thrust that dagger into Robb Stark's heart," Hissed Roose, Edric stiffened and sneaked a careful glance towards Boudicca who now sat straight on her horse. The impassive look on her face that let her sentence people to death returning. "But it was also one of the lesser evils. Robb Stark married a _whore_ of a woman. A woman of Lannister blood. What I did was to save thousands of lives. The lives of Northerners. To save those lives, every Stark must die. Including Sansa and Ned Stark."

Boudicca Baratheon stilled for a moment, causing Edric to turn to face her. An agitated Blackfish was peering at her, waiting for her to retaliated. But when she did, none of them was expecting it. She _laughed._ A loud and boisterous laugh. All he could do was stare in astonishment, as the shocking noise that escaped her lips made the horses grow unsettled like their riders were. Although, the one person that wasn't shocked was in the form of a little girl. Of Lyanna Mormont.

"Spare me the lies that _spew_ from that wretched little mouth of yours," Boudicca stated her jaw clenching. "I have no need for lies. Your selfish need for power killed Robb."

"It did?" Lord Bolton asked, cocking his head to the side.

" _Aye._ Your pathetic excuse for a house has hated the position House Stark had within the North," Blackfish informed them. "You were close to being Warden of the North. _So close._ But the war was won because House Stark was _stronger._ Wiser. Nobler. Your ancestors bent the knee to House Stark after the wolves triumphed. Your ancestors and house have been resentful ever since then. The wolves ruled over the North. And when Ned Stark is grown, he will _rule._ Boudicca and I will see to it. Until that time, I just want your fucking traitorous head."

"For centuries, we have been _loyal_ bannerman to the Starks," Bolton seethed. "I followed Lord Eddard Stark into two wars. I then followed his son, Robb into a mere squabble-"

"It doesn't matter if it was some _mere_ squabble. You swore an oath to Robb and _you_ betrayed him," Queen Boudicca interrupted. Looking behind Roose, Edric winced when he caught sight of Arnolf Karstark. The withered man buried underneath his brown fur cloak. "Ah, Lord Karstark. Another traitor. You have the _balls_ to sit upon a horse at his side. The man that killed and betrayed _your_ King. You aren't a damned man, Arnolf. You are a _dead_ man!"

When the old man didn't respond, Edric felt his lips quirk up into a satisfied smirk when he noticed the man reclining into his thick clothing that he was wearing. Looking to his right, Edric saw and felt that Boudicca was growing stronger as time went on. But, with her strength came Roose's malice. As time passed, Edric would be a fool not to see the darkness on Roose's horrid face. Swallowing, Edric held onto the reins of his horse and saw that Blackfish was smirking.

"We are not traitors. We did not bend the knee to Robb Stark. We bent it to Eddard Stark," Argued Roose, grinding his teeth to control his temper. "I swore an oath to Lord Eddard Stark. House Bolton would not follow a love stricken pup into battle because his barbaric wife had a grip on his cock. His declaration of rebellion against the Iron Throne, plunged the Seven Kingdoms into war just so he could bed a Baratheon cunt from King's Landing. Little did he know, he would become the stag's bitch."

"If you ever say that _again..._ " Boudicca began, her voice a murmur as her hand went to her sword hilt. "You will be _dead_ before you can even fall off that horse of yours."

The controlled tempers and checked courtesies were now gone, as the tension grow between the Bolton and the Baratheon. Edric could see Blackfish and Mors edging their steeds forward, preparing to charge if need be at Roose Bolton's men to allow Queen Boudicca to attack the Lord of Dreadfort. Although some of the men held a blood lust in their eyes, Edric knew none of them would be able to cut Queen Boudicca down. _I have seen Queen Boudicca fight,_ Edric thought and recalled the moment she fought Lord Whitehill. _And I have heard the stories about her battling Renly._

"You would threaten to kill a man in his own land?" Roose Bolton asked, tilting his head to the side from interest.

"I've done it before," The Bringer of Storms shrugged, an impassive tone to her voice as she gave Roose a blank stare. "I can do it again."

"I wonder what history will make us?" Lord Bolton pondered, dismissing her threat with a wave of his hand. "It depends on which side of the war wins. Yours, I am painted as a traitorous tyrant who murdered a beloved King. Or mine, you painted as a barbaric whore determined to conquer _my_ lands. I brought you here, to Dreadfort, for a reason. As amusing as it is to hear such idle threats, Boudicca...I want to begin talks about _why_ I asked you to come here. I have no doubt that what I am about to say, will have some interest."

"I want nothing from the likes of _you_ ," Spat Boudicca.

"I wouldn't be so sure," Roose warned, a smirk crawling onto his face. "I have some terms I wish to discuss."

" _Terms?"_ Queen Boudicca roared. Her thunderous voice startled his horse, making Edric grip onto it tighter than he ever has. Stroking its neck, he murmured quiet words of reassurance under his breath as he watched on with a baited breath. "The terms I will accept will be that _you_ and your bastard son surrender to me. Your forces to put down their swords-"

"Is that all?" Lord Bolton asked, ignoring the sneer Blackfish and the Umber's directed at him.

"You will be executed for treason. For the murder of Robb Stark," The warrior Queen snarled, her horse stomping its feet against the ground. "Your war is lost, Roose Bolton. Now it ends. Do you want to save the lives of Northerners? Let's see how much _your_ words are worth. If you surrender now, your men will be allowed to take the Black for their crimes. It's the Wall for them. You will still die, of course, but I will be merciful. I will spare that wife of yours. Walda, is it? The woman is with child, is she not?"

" _Merciful?"_ One of the Bolton men protested. "How is that a mercy? To freeze my fucking balls off at the Wall?"

"Do you seek death?" Boudicca inquired, arching an eyebrow towards you. "I have a few men and women amongst me here that are so _longing_ to have a taste of Bolton blood. You have a choice. Live at the Wall or be a feast for crows. I'd rather like to see the flesh being pecked off your body by those beauties. Your choice, Ser." When she cast a cold glance to the man, Edric stifled a laugh when the man trembled underneath her gaze. Surrender Roose and I can let Blackfish here give you a _quick_ , clean death. Do not, and I will let my men _rip_ you to shreds."

 _Which is more than the likes of you deserve,_ Edric added on in silence. There was a tense silence. The faces of the men beside Roose were white from fear. A few moments passed before Roose Bolton _smiled,_ the sagging skin on his ageing face stretching. Clicking his fingers, a man stepped forward holding a large sack. Eyeing it, Edric looked questioningly to Boudicca and Blackfish who were both fixated on the sack before them.

"I am afraid I must decline that _tempting_ offer, Boudicca. Instead, I have a counter offer. An offer I am sure you will not refuse," Roose mused, but even then Boudicca remained frighteningly calm. _The calm before the storm,_ Edric remarked to himself. "Here is the offer I have. You will be given a chance to leave for the Free Cities. You will end this conflict and never make war on us again. House Bolton will remain the rulers of the North in place of the Starks. The Lords that ride with me will become the _rightful_ Lords of the North. You will hand over the Riverlands and the Stormlands. You will hand over your title as Queen and make me the King of the North. Do all this, Boudicca and there will be peace."

"You think I'd fucking agree to that?" Boudicca laughed coldly, after a long period of heavy silence. "Why would I agree to that? Fuck that!"

"I know that it wouldn't be done out of the _goodness_ of your heart, Boudicca," Lord Bolton said, a small smile appearing once again his face but it was a cruel one. "I am no fool. You will agree to it. Or Robb Stark's brother will be dead. And it will not be a slow death. You will do it to keep the little Lord Stark safe from harm."

"You jest," Boudicca replies, her voice weaker than it had been mere moments ago. "Bran and Rickon Stark are _dead_."

"I do not," Roose Bolton murmurs. "The little Lord Rickon is at Winterfell. He was not killed like most believe. Instead, he escaped the castle and travelled to Skagos with a Wildling woman and his direwolf for protection. But once we learned of his location, I sent my son to retrieve him. I believe that those from Skagos do not like a Baratheon woman ruling the North. All of them were willing to hand over the pup. Though the Wildling bitch and the direwolf caused some problems. My son was willing to flay the savage bitch."

"You fucker!" Blackfish sneered, readying to draw his sword and ride towards Lord Bolton.

"You sound surprised, my Lord," Lord Bolton said, making Edric shiver at the mocking tone of his loathsome voice. "We hold tradition above all in the North. And if you don't want my son to practice our tradition...on Rickon...I suggest that your Queen agrees _peacefully_ to my terms. If not, well there will be one less wolf in the world that I have to deal with."

"Where is the proof?" Boudicca demanded. "Show me proof that Rickon Stark is a hostage of House Bolton."

"Ser Damon," Roose commanded, looking over his shoulder to the man holding the dripping sack. "If you may."

The young man; a long, fair haired man with a stubble and a bow strapped to his shoulder, plunged his hand into the sack. A few moments later his hand emerged grasping the blood-covered head of some sort. In an almost careless manner, Damon threw the head onto the ground at the hooves of Boudicca's horse. Looking down towards the animal, Edric knew the head was too large and misshapen to be a human head. Though it was hard to tell with so much matted dirt and blood. Startled, Edric glanced down at the head again. It wasn't dirt.

It was _fur._

It was the head of a wolf. A direwolf.

"You have until noon, Boudicca," Roose smirked. "As you plot and ponder, remember the words of House Bolton. _Our blades are sharp._ "

"I shall," Queen Boudicca answered, her pained eyes never leaving the head of the direwolf. "But remember the Rains of Castamere. _My claws are just as sharp."_

With that, his Queen turned her horse around rode back towards the woods.

* * *

Author's Note: Hey, I am sorry for the long wait on this story (and my other stories). You might have read the comment on my other story I recently updated but if you didn't, a lot of things have happened in my life from around November. From breaking my arm to going to college and my mum becoming sick (we didn't know what was wrong with her for a while but thankfully it was nothing serious) and I because of having to look after my mum and sister, life became exhausting for a while. So I didn't feel like writing for a long time but I am gradually getting back to normal. I am so sorry for the waiting! And I hope you like this update.

I would like to give a massive thank you to everyone for being so patient, for reviewing, for making this story one of your favourites and for following this story! If you have any questions, feel free to ask and I will happily answer them. In the next chapter, there will be a major battle and a lot of deaths. I had to split it because if I was to add on the battle, I think the chapter would be well over 11,000 words.

Reviews -

ZabuzasGirl: Thanks! I hope you like this update!

Cheryl: Thank you!

birdy: Thanks, I hope you like this chapter and sorry for such the long wait!

RHatch89: Thanks!

Guest 1: Thank you, the next chapter will be filled with action. This is sort of the first part of two; the Battle of Dreadfort.

PorcelainPuppetLady: Thank you, my arm is much better than it was.

celticank: Yep, there will be a lot of conflict at the Wall. Involving the Red Woman, Stannis, Jon and Sansa when it comes to Ned. I will be mentioning the RLJ theory about Jon soon when it comes to Boudicca reuniting with her son and Sansa and meeting Jon.

otherworlder81: Thank you! I am glad you think she does her namesake proud. I can say when Davos does get to the Wall and he will, a lot of things will erupt.

Guest 2: There will be a lot more deaths, mostly to those who deserve it but there will be some undeserved deaths. In the next chapter, there will be a big battle that I am basing on a real life battle that happened which was quite a bloody battle. And ended in disaster for one side.

House of Comescu: Someone will try to touch Ned, but I won't be saying who it is.

Winterkiss: Thank you! I hope you like this update!

Anna.B: Thank you, it means a lot to me that you think so. I wanted to make her a complex character and I am glad that she appeared that way. The favourite part I write is when it comes to her relationship with Davos and Blackfish. Shireen as at the Wall, however, she will still be alive...for now. Boudicca will meet Tormund and the rest of the Wildlings soon and I can say that it will show a lighter side to Boudicca that hasn't been seen in a while. In this story, Tommen is a little wiser as he has seen more and suffered more. He will appear again soon along with Margaery.

Panth3ra: Thank you, I am glad you like this story. I hope you like this chapter!


	45. Chapter Forty Four

_The Dreadfort_

Boudicca Baratheon

 _Hero._

It seemed her uncle Tyrion was right, words were powerful. That mere word, she was growing to detest it with each passing day.

 _You are my hero, Icca. You will always be a hero to me,_ her little sister used to tell her, and Boudicca could almost hear Myrcella utter it to her on the loneliest of nights. _Almost._ Before her sister's murder, her kind and soft voice was a blessing in Boudicca's cruel and cold world. A blessing she would never get again. And that hurt her the most. The word _never._ The word that meant inevitable. The word that meant absolute. The word that meant she wouldn't get to see her little sister again. The word stays with her as she remembers the pain. As she remembers the wedding.

In her dreams, Boudicca can see them. In her dreams, she can hear them. The petrified wails of children. The dying roars of soldiers. The horrified screams of women… her own screams among them. The whisper of _Boudicca._ She could still _hear_ it. And now, the snow storm raging above her head was singing the same song. It sang the song of never. The memories of her beloved wolf, falling to his knees. Of her pregnant self, covered in blood.

The memories of how _they_ laughed at her pain.

At her people's pain.

All of this grasped at her heart, ripping it apart as she stared towards the Dreadfort and its soldiers. The word kept hissing at her. Singing its song. _Never, never, never._ It kept singing. Now nearing the age of twenty, Boudicca discovered the worst of what words could do to her. Her sister and her lover, no matter how much she cries and pleads to whatever God there was, will _never_ return. Digging her sharp nails in her thighs, Boudicca felt her heart hurt.

 _You are like the Last Hero from the stories mama would tell about,_ Myrcella would tell her with wide and eager eyes. _Do you remember those, Icca?_

Of course, she did, no matter how broken and bloodied she was Boudicca could never forget their mother's rare stories. After all, their mother's stories were warnings.

And seeing the soldiers of House Bolton gathered in their thousands for battle, made Boudicca Baratheon even more certain that she was not like the heroes that Myrcella loved so much. All the men that pledged their lives and swords to House Bolton… to Roose… to the man that murdered Robb and had a hand in her sister's death… she could not wait for their deaths. For her revenge.

In all the stories that her mother told, the lustful stags of yellow and black were not the true heroes. The fierce and proud house she hailed from were the savages in the stories. Were the enemies. Were the beasts that were cursed with a hunger for war… a hunger that would never be quenched.

 _I am the beast that mothers of the South tell their children about at night,_ Boudicca thought _. She is the God of Death, children. When she arrives, someone dies._ That was how the tale went.

At times, Boudicca often wondered if there was a certain amount of truth to the latter tale about her ancestors. If people considered her a hero, all of them were foolish to think so. No hero would feel _satisfied_ being covered in the blood of their enemies. No hero would relish the feel of holding the still beating hearts of their enemies. No hero would smile while their enemies dropped in their _thousands._

And no hero would kill children or their own blood.

In fact, Boudicca was growing to like the new name that was being spat at her.

The God of Death.

It fitted her greatly.

No, Boudicca Baratheon was not a _hero_ but in this world, she learned rather quickly that there was _no_ such thing.

The last of the heroes died out a long time ago.

Looking up at the dull grey sky, snowflakes continued to fall. It covered the frost covered ground in white. _Grey and white_ , Boudicca thought as she felt the snow land on her face. The colours of House Stark. Of her son's house. The words of Ned's house, winter is coming, came to mind when she looked across to Dreadfort. And it will. Until she takes her leave from his wretched world, Boudicca will continue to fight. For now, her thoughts returned to Roose Bolton and his men. Although Blackfish told her, both had fought worse odds; that she had fought worse than the likes of a Bolton. But he did not know Roose Bolton, not like she did.

Mounted on her black horse Boudicca looked over at the battlefield - covered in ice, snow and mist. Lying ahead of it was the Dreadfort, a place she intends to reduce to nothing but ash as the traitorous bastard watched. _Little Rickon_ , her mind always fell back to him. A boy, no younger than her little brother Tommen, was held captive by Ramsay. Although Boudicca would not dare breathe a word of what she thought to Blackfish, Rickon Stark had not much hope of surviving if she didn't or did win. She knew what to expect from the Bolton's.

A small breath escaped passed her lips, as Boudicca tried to extinguish the rage within her. Looking over her shoulder, she looked at the men fighting with her. For her. For the North. For revenge. For survival. When she felt someone ride up to her side, Boudicca turned and for a moment or so hoped it was Davos - however, it was just Blackfish with a stern and fierce look set on his face. No doubt, the ageing man was preparing for what was to come.

"If we did, Rickon dies..." Blackfish tells her. "If we die, we lose the North... we lose Sansa and Ned... we lose our lives."

"I care not for my death," Boudicca says, her face felt like it was turning to stone with how hard she clenched her jaw. Clenching the reins of her horse, she looked across to the Bolton soldiers in formation. "I only care for the Stark's... for Sansa, Arya, Bran and Rickon... wherever they may be. For my son, Ned. For Tommen. For Davos. I care not if I live or die."

"Lass... I think that you are lying," Retorts Blackfish, a sigh escaping his pale lips as he gives her a pointed look. "I know that I am not ready to face the Stranger, and neither are you. You _should_ never be prepared to die, Boudicca Baratheon. You should never feel as if the fights over before it has been fought. Now, we are going to take our men and ride for those Bolton bastards... and we're _both_ going to give them a good fucking kicking."

The man gave her a look. A look that almost seemed _sad,_ but it was the most genuine look Blackfish had ever given her. _I have been selfish._ She had thought nothing about Blackfish and what he felt, just herself. He too had lost. His intense stare caught her own and for a moment or so, she was taken aback. _Those eyes,_ Boudicca thought as green met blue. _Robb's eyes._ After all this time, she thought it was Lady Catelyn that Robb inherited his eyes from. Instead, it was Brynden Tully's he had possessed.

"We will take back Winterfell for the Lady Catelyn," At the mention of her name, Boudicca stopped herself, remembering what had happened to her. How the strong woman whose heart was once made of flesh had turned to stone. Blackfish tensed at his niece's name and averted his eyes, looking ahead to Dreadfort. "This is for Eddard Stark. For Robb. For Myrcella. For all the people who we have loved and lost. And today-"

Boudicca Baratheon rode forward, her voice rising to battle with the fierce wind. Withdrawing her sword from its sheath, she turned to her men with a new-found determination. It lit a fire in stomach as she gazed towards her men. Each face. Each face had a name. A voice. A beating heart. These people were depending on her to lead them and she _would. I am Boudicca Baratheon,_ she tells herself. _I am Boudicca Baratheon and I fear no man._

"Today, we will take back our freedom from the Bolton's!" Roared Boudicca. "No longer will the traitorous Bolton's hold the North. We fight for the Stark name! We fight for our families! We fight for our home! And if we fall..." She paused, tears gathering in her eyes as she heard Robb utter her name once more. "We fall together! As brothers and sisters in arms... if we should die, we will die together!"

Squeezing the reins on her horse, she turned with widened eyes at Bolton's footmen charging towards them. Looking towards Blackfish, he gave her a small and firm nod. It was that simple act of encouragement that urged her horse forward. It was a battle for the North. Horns sounded as she and her men looked towards the advancing soldiers, Boudicca turned her horse towards her men to yell orders at the mounted soldiers.

 _I do not understand,_ Boudicca thought with furrowed brows. _Why would he send out his footmen first? And not his cavalry? Does he care that little for his own army?_

The sound of hooves thundered against the snow-covered hill, it was hard, but Boudicca knew she must not go too far ahead of her men, but anger was demanding she do so. Her men were now exposed to a wide-open field. Each battle, nature was on her side. When she fought her uncle, it was the woods. And when it was Moat Cailin, it was the lack of light. Now, there was nowhere to hide. And retreating was _never_ an option. In all the battles she fought, Boudicca had never fought on an open battlefield. This battle _felt_ different.

The Warrior Queen glanced to her left and to her right, the soldiers on horseback had managed to keep up with her. All of them held the same look; fearful, vengeful and determined. A horn sounded as her men neared Dreadfort and that is when she saw it. Archers in their _hundreds_ released their arrows. With the strong wind from the storm, the arrows flew effortlessly through the air and towards her men. Raising her shield, she prepared herself for the onslaught as both men and horses collapsed at her side. Soon enough, there was more arrows than snowfall. It caused a dark cloud above her.

Their cries. Behind her, more and more of her men seemed to fall.

" _Come on!_ " Thundered Lord Karstark, stilling his horse as soldiers ran passed him. "Show them who owns the North!"

A horn from Dreadfort sounded, and her eyes widened at the sight of Roose Bolton's cavalry charging down the hill towards them at an alarming speed. Bracing herself for the inevitable and powerful clash of the opposing cavalries, Boudicca raised her sword and shield.

It seemed the charge would never end… until it did. The collision made the ground shudder beneath her as cries from both horse and man filled the air.

With little grace and a loud snarl, Boudicca swung her sword down at the closest thing to her. A horse. The soldier fell to the ground before the beast, but he was not quick enough to move. Charging past, she heard the beast hit the ground and the man.

 _His death was too merciful,_ she thought with a sneer. Uncaring for who or what she hit, Boudicca swung left and right as she drove her horse forward into the thick of the battle. _I need to get to Dreadfort. To Roose Bolton. He is the only thing I want._

As a mounted soldier neared she looked at his face. It was a face filled with false hope and misplaced determination. _He cannot kill me,_ Boudicca spits to herself. _Not until I get to Roose._ Her sword met the Bolton soldier and she thrust it forward, letting her blade carve through his side. Giving little care, she urged her horse forward.

 _In battle,_ she thought. _You win or die._

Turning her tired horse around, she looked at her soldiers on the battlefield and tried to find the purple-eyed boy. _Where are you, Edric?_ Boudicca thought, until her frantic eyes caught sight of the snow-white horse he sat upon.

"Forward, Edric!" Panted Boudicca, her voice hoarse and sore from screaming. "Give the signal! Head for Dreadfort! Sound it, Edric! We must lay siege to it!"

The boy gave a nod and raised the horn to his lips, blowing on it continuously with all his might. Cries from her men surrounded her as Edric kept blowing the horn. Though it was Blackfish's feral roar she heard above them, causing her to look towards him. A primal look of rage was on his face as cut down men left and right. No one could control or console him. He had let his rage and pain take over as he cut down the Bolton footmen. _I am coming for you,_ Boudicca thought viciously as she neared Dreadfort. _Hiding, like the coward –_ Her thoughts ceased when her horse took an arrow to head. The beast collapsed to its knees, causing her to fall from it.

As her heart thumped in her ears like war drums, Boudicca looked at the clouds above her. _The grey of House Stark,_ she thought in a daze before she attempted to get to her feet, but a searing pain overwhelmed her. _"Get up!"_ She hissed to herself, staring at the blood-covered man running towards with his sword raised. Cries escaped her throat as she attempted to sit. "Get up… get up…"

Digging her sword into the ground, Boudicca began to hoist herself up from the snow. Staring the man down, a look of panic crossed his causing her brows to furrow in confusion. Was she that frightening? He attempted to run but a mounted Ser Harwin charged passed her and shot an arrow at him. The arrow went through the back of skull and out of his forehead.

"You alright, Boudicca?" Ser Harwin asked.

"I've had worse," Retorted Boudicca, clutching at her shoulder as she looked around at her men before turning back to Harwin. "Go, head for Dreadfort. I'll be fine."

With one last worried glance, the skilled archer hurried towards Dreadfort along with most of her men. Thousands of men that were on the battlefield were being reduced to _hundreds._

"Baratheon!"

Looking over her shoulder, a large horse stormed passed her. Its rider was none other than Arnolf Karstark clad in bronze armour with a bear adorned on his breastplate. Swinging his longsword, Karstark charged at her once more. Dodging the horse and the rider's sword, Boudicca fell hard to the ground once more. The sword was mere inches from taking off her head.

"Get up!" Uttering it as a mantra, Boudicca rose to her feet and readied her sword. It felt as if someone had set her blood on fire as she stood still, keeping Karstark's stare. "Come on then, come to me."

The grip she had on her sword was so tight, she noticed her fingers had turned white. _Come on,_ Boudicca thought with a snarl as the man let out a roar. Charging towards her, she let out a feral scream and swung at the horse. Cutting into its leg, the horse let out a sound of pain before it collapsed. As it toppled, the beast fell on top of its rider. Limping towards the downed beast and its master, Boudicca knelt at Karstark's side and remained silent as she listened to him plead for his life.

"Please!" The panicked man shouted. "Please! Spare me!"

"No," Answered Boudicca, her voice cold as she let out a laugh. "Why should I? You betrayed Robb. You helped kill him. You deserve it."

"Y-Your Grace!" Pleased Karstark, looking up at her in fear. Even in death, he was pathetic. " _Please,_ Your Grace! No- "

Unsheathing her dagger, Boudicca raised it and thrust the dagger into his head. With an impassive stare, she felt blood coat her hands and dagger as she wrenched the blade free. Rising to her feet, Boudicca picked up her sword and continued for Dreadfort. The snort of a horse caused her to look up. _Edric._ A small and tired smile appeared on his face as he held out his hand for her.

"Queen Boudicca," Edric said, as she hoists herself up onto the horse. When she places a firm hand on his shoulder, he clicks his tongue and horse starts forward for the gate. "Come on, Blackfish is waiting. It's over is it not, Your Grace? We have won the North."

"No," Replied Boudicca, unable to take her eyes off the castle. "Now it begins."

* * *

 _When he frowns he looks so much like Robb,_ Boudicca thinks as she watches Blackfish command his soldiers to find _him_. Staring up at the Bolton banner, her cheeks were hurting from the laughter that left her mouth. It wasn't laughter of happiness… it was of _relief._ After such a long time, she could avenge her husband. She could avenge her Robb. She could avenge her fatherless child.

 _Ned,_ Boudicca thought and her smile fades as she catches sight of a soldier lighting a torch. The golden red flickering. _My sweet, little Ned. I doubt I can call him little anymore._ He will be walking and talking soon… or perhaps her little pup is doing just that. Her poor child. The sadness she feels for her son turns to rage as the Bolton banner mocks her. This is _his_ fault.

It was dark and cold in his great hall, but the light of the sun kept it from being engulfed in darkness. _I could howl like Greywind,_ Boudicca thought and wondered if she was starting to turn into a wolf with how much she wanted to howl. She has taken Dreadfort. She has won the North. She has ensured her son and Sansa's life. Like she promised. She had the right to howl.

Not long after that thought, her head and heart start to throb from pain.

 _I look like a wolf,_ Boudicca thinks as she licks the blood from her lips. Wiping her bloodied face with the back of her hand, she looks over at her nervous soldiers. Most of them were wondering what she might do. _I will rip him apart,_ she thinks fiercely with a snarl present on her lips. _Limb from limb until there is nothing left in this world of him._

When a wetness was felt on her cheeks, Boudicca realised she had sank to her knees on the cold and unforgiving stone floor. _My boy and Sansa are at the Wall,_ Boudicca thinks to herself. _With Stannis and that red bitch… and Jon Snow._

Jon Snow. She had heard stories from Robb about him. How both were blood brothers and best friends. His death must have angered and hurt Jon too. Yet, she would hate feeling helpless as he must be feeling. If he left the Wall, he would have been executed.

 _I would do no such thing,_ Boudicca thought and unclenched her shaking fists. _I will make you a Stark, Jon Snow. Whatever you think of me Jon Snow, I will never be able to repay such debt._ After the war, Robb was going to name Jon a Stark and now she would do so for him. She would fulfil his wish. To see the smile on Robb's face-

She begins howling then – no, she must admit to herself she is wailing. Her dark brows are furrowed, her vision is clouded with tears and her bottom lip trembles as a lump forms in her throat. Gasping for air, Boudicca lets out a scream when she catches sight of the banner once more.

 _He's never coming back._

And it's all _his fault._

A hand is placed on her shoulder. The men know how much of a mad woman she is now. She'd been screaming her thoughts out loud. He's never coming back. She's never coming back. Neither of them are. A laugh escapes her lips then before she hears the doors to the hall open. He's here.

She hopes the moon is proud.

She howled for it.

And soon, he will too.

* * *

Roose Bolton

It was for the good of his name and his house. _Our blades are sharp_ were his words, but the blades of his soldiers weren't, and he lost his own home because of their incompetence in battle. Now, here he was wandering the halls of his own home to escape for Winterfell where his bastard son was and the Stark boy.

In truth, Roose knew he should be out there fighting with his men but unlike them he was not expendable. He was a highborn lord of House Bolton and he had duties to fulfil. Turning a corner, he tried to stifle his laboured breathing as he continued down the hall. Although he was tired, he dared not stop and rest. _I must keep to my one true ally,_ Roose thought as he kept himself hidden within the shadows of the hall. _I must stick to the shadows if I am to escape._

All he could feel was rage towards the Lannister's. Since agreeing to that lion's plan, he has lost just about everything. It wasn't that long ago he had a significant position in the Northern army, he was a commander. It was a victorious and powerful one. Now, Roose had no such position and most of his soldiers were either dead or surrendered like the cowards they were. His bastard son would no doubt be laughing with a mocking glee when he hears the news.

 _I never should have been tempted by Tywin's plan,_ Roose thought with a scowl. The plan was simple enough – kill Robb Stark, become Warden of the North and see that wretched woman humiliated. Years of being nothing but a lesser house, he wanted to do what no other Bolton has done. But the plan fell through when Boudicca became the leader of the rebellion.

Now, he had nothing to show for it.

It was finished, and he would be too, if he did not escape. It was over. He has lost his _own_ home to the likes of that whore. It was only a matter of time before the cowards within his army would surrender him to be executed. Over death, he chose life.

With a Stark as his hostage, he still had a chance. If he got to Winterfell, Roose could make his next move then. _That girl loves the Starks,_ he thought as a sneer crossed his face. _If I threaten his life, she will do as I say. I will make her kneel then, just like I did Robb Stark. The love she holds for the Starks will be the death of her._ Lost in his thoughts as he climbed down the spiral staircase, a man appeared in front of him. Unsheathing his sword, he pointed it towards the man who crept out of the shadows. From the moment their eyes met, he knew who it was.

"Tully," Roose snarled, keeping his sword level with the man's face. " _Move."_

"And why on earth would I do that?" He asked, raising a thick brow before he leered at the man. The man took a step on the stair allowing Roose to press the sword against his face. "Is that how you treat your guests? A royal guest has arrived, and she has been _longing_ to meet you again, Bolton."

"Move aside," Hissed Roose. "Or I _will_ kill you. Do you think I am easily frightened by the likes of a Baratheon or a _Tully_?" When he spat the name out like poison, he could see Brynden Tully's temper flare. "Now, stand aside. I am the Lord of Dreadfort, the Lord of House Bolton and I am the Warden of the North… I have flayed many men in my lifetime, I have no problem adding a trout to that list."

"I say you wouldn't dare."

A mocking voice came from behind him but before he could turn to face them, a knife was held up against his throat. The metal was glinting underneath the flickering flame of the torch on the wall next to him. A foot kicked his legs from underneath him, cause him to fall down the three steps on the stairwell. Letting out a snarl, he looked up as the figure hidden in the darkness consumed his vision. The frail man pulled back his cloak to reveal a breastplate of a lizard chasing its tail. _Howland Reed,_ Roose thought with a leer.

"And where is the oh so brave Boudicca Baratheon?" Mocked Roose, raising a brow towards the two men as Brynden Tully brought him to his feet roughly by the scruff his neck like some dog. It enraged him further when both men ignored him. "Doing dogs work, are we? Does she think that a Tully and a Reed would frighten me? Then she is more of a fool than I thought."

"No," Howland Reed said. His voice light and cool. The grip Tully had on his arm tightened, as he was brought to the doors of his own great hall. The world had gone silent. No bird made a noise and no flame hissed. All was still. "Queen Boudicca has requested _your_ presence."

"The Starks send their regards."

Then he was shoved into the hall.

* * *

Author's Note: Hi, I know it's been long _long_ time since I have updated, and I am so sorry. I would like to explain myself, it has been a rough year for me and my family. A lot of things have happened over the past few months that I just lost the love I had for writing. I had no inspiration and no ideas. It was just completely gone but after a long year, it's back again and I would like to thank all of you for waiting. So, I hope you like this chapter. Although I didn't update, I did check the comments because your views and opinions mean a lot to me, so I would like to thank everyone for leaving a comment. In January, you can expect a lot of updates on my stories. Thanks for reading, commenting, leaving a favourite and a follow! If you have any questions, don't be afraid to ask me.


	46. Chapter Forty Five

_The Wall_

Jon Snow

 _You are a wolf of the North_ , his brother Robb used to tell him. It wasn't even that long ago. Before he left for the Wall, that is what Robb said to him. The last words Robb said to him. _You might be Jon Snow_ , his parting words were. _But I do not care. Your home is Winterfell. You have our blood. The blood of House Stark_. His brother said that he was a wolf of Winterfell and that he should never forget it. But his brother was wrong. The two of them were pups attempting to be wolves.

And now, Robb was _dead_.

And with King Stannis' offer looming over him, Jon felt as if he would soon follow Robb. He couldn't breathe. It was a hard choice he would have to make - between his head and his heart. He could not just abandon his Brothers of the Nightwatch nor could he abandon his sister and his nephew. Inhaling the cold air, Jon could feel his shoulders tense underneath the thick furs of his cloak. As he saw the clouds above him darken, it felt as if his brother was giving him a warning of worse things to come. A storm would soon arrive at the Wall. He thinks of his father then. Standing next to him, wearing the same expression as he did. Solemn.

 _You must protect them_ , Jon hears his father tell him. _The lone wolf dies but the pack survives._

Running a hand through his damp dark curls, Jon found himself letting out a small sigh. As he was about to leave, a warm moist cloud at his right side caught his attention. It was her. Attempting to ignore her, Jon turns and starts to make his way up the ice-covered steps. The light footsteps continued to follow him though. For the past few hours, the Red Woman wouldn't leave his line of sight. Since dawn, Melisandre had been following him. _Orders from Stannis_ , Jon thought.

"-Jon Snow," The feminine voice called out to him softly, causing him to stiffen.

"You shouldn't be seen without a guard," Jon warns her, turning around to face her. It was usual for the Red Woman to be alone. And he could understand, most didn't want the companionship of a woman who burns people for her God. A lot of the brothers were either eating in the hall or making their final rounds before the shift. So it was just him and the Red Woman. "A woman sighted on the Wall is rare and the Crows that don't like it might take advantage of that. I wouldn't want you to get hurt, my Lady."

"You wouldn't let them hurt me, Lord Crow," Melisandre tells him, a faint smile on her pale face. She reaches up to cup his bearded cheek but Jon takes a step back, moving from her grip. Despite claiming to have her Lord's fire within her, the Red Woman's touch always left Jon cold. Each time she touched him, it felt like a cold pair of hands were gripping his head and holding it tight. "You are much too gentle to let them. You are wrong, Jon Snow. I do _have_ a guard-" He frowned then, no one was there apart from him. "I have a guard in the Lord of Light. It is you who should be worried, my Lord."

"And what _should_ I be worried about, my Lady?" Retorts Jon, his brows furrowing. " _Stannis_?"

"The King is not your enemy, Jon Snow," Melisandre denies. A scoff leaves his throat.

"He sees Boudicca and Ned as a threat. To see them as such," Begins Jon, his voice cold. "That makes him _my_ enemy."

"No, Jon Snow. He does not wish to harm The Storm Queen and her Wolf Child," The Red Woman said. "I warn you, Jon Snow... do not refuse our friendship. A time will come when you will need me - you will be in _grave_ danger. I have seen you in the fires... you are battling your way through a storm... enemies that smile at you but behind your back... their blades glinting underneath the moonlight. Those enemies. Shall I tell you their names?"

"I know the names of my enemies."

"Some of them," Melisandre tells him, her brow quirking up as the jewel of her necklace gleamed at him. Clasping her hand together, the Red Woman seemed to stare into his very soul. "It is the so-called friends that you keep that you must fear. The friends that sing their praises to you but then curse you behind your back. I see... I see such horrible things, Jon Snow. I see steel and snow. I see darkness and blood... all I feel is _cold_."

"It's the Wall," Jon replies, his shoulders and jaw tense. "It is always cold. Are you cold, my Lady?"

"Never," The woman said, almost scoffing at the question. "I have the Lord's fire burning inside of me. _Feel_."

"I don't want to."

"Then-" Melisandre pauses, a faint smile on her lips as she trails back down the steps. " _You truly know nothing, Jon Snow._ "

After her parting words left her red lips, the copper-haired woman gave him a gentle smirk before walking down the steps. In a swish of her red dress, she was gone and left him stunned in her wake. Her departure left his surroundings in an eerie silence that brought a chill to him. Swallowing the lump in that had formed in his throat, a reluctant Jon continued up the steps towards Stannis' quarters.

For as long as he could remember, Jon wanted to be a Stark instead of a Snow. And it seemed his longing for that name was about to come true. However, the name brought him nothing but guilt and sorrow. It came at the cost of his father and brother's life... Jon was not born to be Lord of Winterfell - it was Robb's birthright. Not his. Bringing it up with Sansa earlier, all she did was give him a stern glare that reminded him too much of Lady Catelyn. _You would be Lord of Winterfell until Ned comes of age_ , his little sister had told him. _The Warden of the North. You cannot protect us as a crow, Jon. You just can't. But, a wolf can protect us._

Entering the chambers of Stannis, Jon noticed the stoic man sitting in the darkness. All the lighting he had was a small candle providing light to his desk. The room was freezing as a hearth had not been lit. _For a man who follows the Lord of Light_ , Jon remarked to himself. _He is cold as the Wall itself_. There were scrawls and piece of parchment scattered across his desk. For companionship, the pieces of parchment had books stacked high next to the desk.

"You have decided," Declares Stannis, not looking up from the letter he was reading. "What shall it be Lord Snow? Or is it Lord Stark now?"

"If you lose," Jon begins causing Stannis to still and his piercing gaze met his own. "What will happen? You might not win. It happened once before at Blackwater... what if it happens again? House Lannister holds the Iron Throne and King's Landing. I don't think you will get a good welcoming. The Lannister's won't give up what they think is theirs. And what of Boudicca and Ned? The Lannister's... Cersei is still her mother and Ned's grandmother... she has already lost so much."

"Haven't we all? Besides, I have received news that Tywin Lannister is dead-" It was his turn to still as he stared on at Stannis with wide eyes. "Without him, the Lannister's do not stand a _chance_. This means that Roose Bolton has lost his greatest ally. In their weakened states, we shall strike. I might not take the Iron Throne but I will get you Winterfell. If I fail to take King's Landing, you will see to it that Shireen finds herself on the Iron Throne. From taking Winterfell, the North will turn to a Stark instead of her."

"And what of the Wall? I am still Lord Commander," Jon said, standing stiffly at Stannis' desk. Having read the letter, King Stannis holds the letter to the flame. The parchment starts to turn black from the flame. "I made a vow to the Watch. The realm needs us... now more than ever. What sort of Lord can I be if I abandoned a vow I took? All those titles... king... queen... lord... lady... It means _nothing_ to dead men. Titles mean nothing. It means nothing if we both _die_ trying to reclaim Winterfell."

"You are not seeing what I see," Stannis tells him, his voice cold as he rose from his chair. "House Stark - a just house so ancient and noble... it will disappear because of House Lannister and Bolton. It will. In the Seven Kingdom's time of need, it has always been the North and its Warden who answered the call. I need a capable Warden of the North... I need a _Stark_."

"I don't have an army," Jon murmurs. "The men and women in the North are fighting in Boudicca's name. They're _loyal_."

"When a son of Eddard Stark steps forward to claim Winterfell," Replies Stannis, his voice firm. His hands were gripping the desk, causing his knuckles to turn white. "With the Stark children at his side, watch who those loyal men and women flock to. You should put aside the Ranger, Jon Snow. Let the North say that Eddard Stark fathered _four_ sons and not _three_."

" _I will_ ," States Jon, glancing down at the wolf head on his sword in sorrow. "I want rid of the Bolton's... I have to go home now."

 _To protect the_ m, Jon thinks. _I need to be a wolf_.

* * *

 _The Dreadfort_

Boudicca Baratheon

She _stared_.

That was all she seemed to be able to do.

Was stare.

After the battle, she took Roose Bolton to the dungeons and demanded to be left alone. Her men wanted to see the North's justice but decapitation was not enough. In her mind, Boudicca knew that a simple sword to the throat would be too quick a death for the likes of him. No, his end would be slow and agonizing. Like the death of her beloved wolf. As she stared at him, Roose Bolton looked up at her. The man's deadly eyes were fixated on her.

"I understand, Roose... I _truly_ do," Boudicca begins, humming slightly as she lets out a scoffing laugh. "We are enemies. We have been enemies ever since we met. For some reason, we just did not like each other but that doesn't mean that we did not _understand_ each other. _We did_. That means I can understand that you are loathing this. You hate to lose because I don't like to lose either. This must be difficult for you, isn't it?"

The man remained silent and narrowed his eyes towards her, causing her to scowl. Angered, Boudicca landed a sharp kick to his face with her booted foot. A loud crack echoed in the dark cell and Boudicca let a smirk grow on her face when she saw blood flow down his sharp and crooked nose. The gaunt man averted his icy eyes, a sneer making its way onto his face.

" _Answer me_!" Snarled Boudicca, leaning down to grasp his face so he would face her. As he spoke, the muffled sound of his gag gave her a sadistic satisfaction. "It must be so _frustrating_ for you... not being able to speak. To insult me and call me... what was it again? A stag whore? I would hate it too... not being able to insult the enemies that were holding me captive. You wanted me dead but here I am, stronger than ever."

" _Please_ ," The timid voice from behind her said, causing her to turn. "Don't hurt him, my Lady. I'll do anything! Anything!"

" _Anything_? That sounds familiar, doesn't it Roose? I said that when your husband took mine from me," Boudicca spits at the heavily pregnant Fat Walda before turning her attention back to Roose, her voice becoming a low hiss. "When I saw him for the first time... I had never seen such beauty before. I finally understood what my father meant. I loved him at first sight. He was _perfect_ ; he was kind, he was strong, he was intelligent and loved. So loved. He had a kindness to him that I didn't. He was about to become a father. He was _mine_ and I was his. And you took him from _me_. You betrayed him. Why did you do that?"

It is silent, besides the sobbing of Walda.

"It doesn't matter now, does it? He is _dead_ and I live... I suppose we chose our own fate... we make our own choices," Scoffs Boudicca. "You must have felt _powerful_ then. Right now, I feel powerful knowing that I get to ruin you. I must admit, you don't look very powerful now. You look rather pathetic-" The man grows underneath his gag. "I don't sleep much. If at all. I sit and think about how I should end those who ever wronged me. How I should _end_ Roose Bolton, the man who killed my husband and played a role in the Red Wedding. I thought about firing arrows at you and then-" Letting her hand trail down his face and neck, she stopped at his bare chest and dug her nails in. "Running my sword through you. That's how Robb died. But, it's too _merciful_ a death... it's _too quick_... much too quick."

Standing up, Boudicca turns towards the large woman and walks towards her. Looking over her shoulder at the glaring Roose, she kneels down at the chained woman's side. Giving the woman's cheek a rough pat, her hand trails down to the woman's rounded stomach and a small smirk appears on her face. The woman starts to sob and wail for Roose but Boudicca ignores her.

"I thought about doing it to your wife like you did to my husband," Admits Boudicca, causing Lady Walda to squirm and grow hysterical. "I wanted to _gut_ her open like a pig. She's so gentle and stupid, isn't she? To think about seeing her die... it just isn't right. Is it? I suppose it is _poetic_. We both lose our lovers. However, her child saved her life. The child should not have to die for its father's failure, should it? It's _you_ I want. It always has been you since the very beginning. I didn't want Walder... or Tywin... I wanted _you_."

The woman sobs again in relief as Boudicca releases her stomach and turns to Roose.

"I hear that you are _talented_ with a knife," She said, a smirk on her face. "It seems we are more alike than I thought... because I do too."

At that, she let out a scream from the rage she felt and lunged at him. With a dagger tight in her grip, Boudicca straddled his legs and Roose started to struggle. The iron chains held him down and Roose knew he would never escape. To her, he looked like an animal prepared to be skinned. Sitting on his legs, Boudicca looked down at him and began to drink in the traitorous bastard's face while listening to the sound of Walda's terrified screams and his muffled snarls. He made an attempt to fight her off until Boudicca set her knife onto his naked flesh.

Looking at the red nail marks she left earlier, Boudicca followed them and cut a deep vertical line into the man's chest. Stopping at his stomach, she withdrew the dagger before pushing it in deeper. Raising the dagger up, Boudicca stabbed it into his shoulder and sat back. The groans that came from him... it wasn't enough nor was watching the deep line on his front turn a dark red. The dagger parted from his shoulder as she lifted it up and brought it down again. This time, she started to carve into his flesh like one would do to skin an animal. Each time she took a bit of his skin, Boudicca thought of those she loved.

 _For Robb. For Myrcella. For Catelyn. For Sansa. For Ned._

A wet sound started to fill the air and now, it was the Leech Lord that was doing the screaming instead of Walda. Each time, he kept letting out muffled screams from behind his gag. It had turned into a song for her. As he let out a long, continuous roar from the pain he was no doubt in. Peeling back his skin and muscle, Boudicca stilled and sat back to watch him writhe in agony underneath her. The man's ribs were visible and exposed to her.

"And let us not _forget_ the bastard, Bolton... Ramsay Snow," Boudicca murmured, staring down at him as he tried to compose himself. Leaning down, her nose was almost touching his. "When I get to him... I will put him in a cell quite like this once. He will _die_ in a cell. As will Walda and her child. The three of them will live out the rest of their pathetic lives in cells. I want to watch as your family _wither_ s away like your house will... I made a promise, didn't I? I would take away your titles, your lands, and your family. You will be _nothing_ but a name when I am done."

Rising up, Boudicca raised her dagger high and brought it down on Roose Bolton's exposed ribs. It was like watching twigs break and the Lord of Dreadfort gave a violent jerk from the blow she landed on him. After that, she let fury take over her senses and kept bringing the dagger down on his exposed self. His blood had covered her infuriated face. With a scream, Boudicca brought down the dagger for a tenth time before she stopped.

The man's eyes were starting to drift in and out of focus. As she grasped at his ribs and pulled them from his chest, Boudicca leaned down and looked the dying Roose in the eye. Growing closer, the dark-haired woman could feel his final breaths on her face and watched in a sick satisfaction as the life left his ice-colored eyes. Gripping his face with a bloodied hand, Boudicca pulled him up and brought her mouth to his ear. With her other hand, she gripped his heart tight and began to squeeze.

"This is how I felt when he died," Hissed Boudicca, tears starting to gather. " _The Stark's send their regards._ "

Releasing him, Roose of House Bolton took one last breath before he went still. The cell had fallen silent and all Boudicca did was stare down at him. A cry was rising in her throat but this time she couldn't stifle it. Opening her mouth, the sound that came from her wasn't human as she ripped the dagger out of his flesh and started to bring it down to what used to be Roose Bolton's face. All she could do was scream. When she faced Roose Bolton, she followed Robb's teachings. The Starks teachings.

 _The man who passes the sentence_ , Boudicca thought. _Swings the sword_.

She took vengeance for the Starks and the North, for her son and for herself.

A saying, old as her mother's house, whispered to her then.

 _The Lannister's always pay their debts._

* * *

Author's Note: Hi everyone! So I hope this chapter wasn't too graphic and sorry for such a long wait. With my other stories, I am putting them on a hiatus for now until I get some new ideas for them. It's just been one big writer's block for those two stories but I am still continuing on with this one. The updates for this story will be more frequent this year than last year and I hope to at least put out a new chapter or two for my other stories before March.

I would like to thank everyone for their wonderful comments and for reading this story, I still can't believe how many favorites and follows this story got. I am very humbled by it! If anyone has any questions, don't be afraid to leave a message. Thanks for reading. I was wondering how everyone is viewing character development and Boudicca as a character, so leave a message to tell me what you think.


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